A Noble Obligation
by Tidia
Summary: Brotherhood AU. An obigation is something that must be done because of legal or moral duty or something that somebody owes in return for something given. Warnings for language.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** A Noble Obligation

**By:** Tidia

**Disclaimer:** Kripke owns Supernatural and Ridley created The Brotherhood universe.

**Author's Notes**: First, I would like to thank Mog for betaing this and challenging me. Second, Ridley and Leslie for reading the many versions of this fic (I stopped picking at it though it was difficult-lol). Just as Kripke has his myth arc, so does The Brotherhood universe and this fic will fit into it. I can't say more because Ridley would kill me, but I hope you enjoy ride. (Yes, we had a great vacation!)

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**Part 1:**

The boys relaxed back on the twin size beds. Sam curled up with a John Grisham paperback while Dean flipped through an issue of Road and Track. They'd had a long day and, realistically, they wouldn't get more than five hours of sleep that night. Both boys were silent, the television on for ambience.

For once they weren't low on funds, and although it was better to stay ahead, sometimes a night away from a smoky bar and pool hall was necessary. Dean felt he needed to recharge, and find his center. He was reacting instead of being proactive, going from hunt to hunt barely finishing a length ahead. Tomorrow, when he felt more refreshed and relaxed, he would win them some money.

Dean crossed his arms under his head, closed his eyes and prepared to drift off. "You asleep?" he asked his brother. There was no response. Dean turned and shut off the light. He should have also shut off the television, but Sam held the remote hostage on his bed. Dean didn't mind wasting electricity on someone else's bill.

He always had the ability to rest his body while his mind raced with thoughts. Tonight he tried easing his mind as he felt his body grow heavy. A knock on the door interrupted the visage of Jessica Biel. Dean immediately came awake, pulling the knife from underneath the pillow. "Sam!" he said in a harsh whisper.

Sam woke up as alert as Dean. The older Winchester gestured to the door. Sam nodded, sliding out of bed, and placing his hand on the door knob. He paused for three beats and opened the door, pulling in the person on the other side.

Dean brought his knife to the man's throat. "Who are you?"

The man's salt and pepper head was bowed low, his hair covering his face. "John. John Winchester. Your father."

Dean's hunter reflexes served him well. His stomach tightened at the introduction but his body didn't hesitate and he defensively reacted.

"Our father is DEAD!" Dean yelled as he pulled the man's hair back, forcing his face up.

Under the grubbiness, hollow cheeks and scruffy beard was John Winchester's facade.

"Dad?" Sam took a step back, stunned. Immediately, he recovered and lunged for the nearby flask of holy water. With a quick twist of the cap he opened the container and splashed the liquid across their visitor's chest. "Cristo!"

There was no reaction.

John closed his eyes. "Holy water doesn't work on the demon. Try an exorcism."

Dean nodded to his brother, the knife held steadily at the man's throat. Sam retrieved their father's journal. The younger Winchester began reading the Latin phrases, glancing to see if there was any response.

Nothing.

Dean loosened his grip on the knife, switching hands, before again placing it on the man's throat. "Who are you?!" he yelled again. "Our father's dead." He looked at his brother. "Only the Colt works against the demon."

The younger Winchester took a step back then forward again. "Doppelgangers or Skinwalkers can't manifest anyone long dead. And anything else would have reacted. Right? Dean. . ." Sam was starting to believe their father had in fact returned from the dead. They had seen stranger things.

But another web spun in Sam's mind. Part of him worried his brother had conjured up John Winchester. "Did you do this?"

Dean shook his head. He had been tempted, however decided it was a vile act which would only betray his father. "What's dead should stay dead," he whispered, repeating the mantra he claimed after he deduced his father had traded his life for his son's.

John bowed his head, inhaling and exhaling a few times before saying anything further. He shifted and looked at his sons. "Mary made a deal with the demon. She took my place and I came back. . . She said our boys needed someone. . ."

"Mom?" Sam choked.

Dean rubbed his mouth with his hand. "How?"

"She never moved on. She stayed in limbo. She was waiting and now. . ." John sobbed. He fisted his left hand, closing his fingers around his gold wedding band.

"Dean?" Sam's voice cracked. He wanted to believe this was their father reborn.

Dean was dangerously close to believing too. There were only so many tests they could perform. They were both virtually safe since Bobby gave them the medallions. And a demon would enjoy the cruelty too much - set John free and imprison his beloved Mary, no other torture could be worse.

Dean took the step towards communion, and slowly put down the knife. He brought a hand under his father's arm, and lifted him to near standing. Sam took John's other arm and the three of them clasped in an embrace.

They didn't know how long they stood there lost in emotions. But, eventually the boys sat their father on Sam's twin bed, careful with what seemed to be a delicate burden. Their father's haggard appearance and thin looks were those of an unwell man.

"Dad." Dean stated, still in disbelief staring at his father, alive, and sitting in front of them. He wanted to ingrain the memory in his mind, but overlap it with an image of a more robust John Winchester.

"Boys, I . . ." John stuttered. He was a broken vessel, and didn't know how to be in this world, his old reality. He tilted his head up. "It's a mistake. . .a mistake. . .your mother."

Dean's eyes narrowed, feeling the personal attack, and wondering if his father blamed him for setting events in motion. "Dad?"

"We need to call Mac." Sam bit his lower lip, echoing his feelings of being completely unsure on what to do with a newly arisen father from the dead.

John frowned. He wanted time with his boys. "Wait. We need to talk first."

Dean glared at his brother, trying to convey that Sam should not push. They needed to be patient and still wary. Dad had been through . . . Dean pushed the thought away. "It can wait. Are you hurt?"

"No." John shook his head, turned his hands over, studying them.

Dean saw what seemed to be black soot embedded in his father's fingernail beds and the crevices of his hands. "Why don't you clean up a bit?"

"Okay." But John remained on the bed.

Sam bent down on the same level as his father. "Are you hungry?"

John shrugged his shoulders, trying to adjust to his bodily needs, and being around others once more.

"I'll get you something to eat." Dean stood up. He needed to do something, act. He helped his father stand, and ushered him to the bathroom door. John did not complain about the escort. This John Winchester was fragile goods. Dean closed the bathroom door behind his father. "Stay with him."

Sam nodded. "Dean, I mean, it's Dad. Right?"

Dean shook his head. He was unsure. It was surreal. They needed to be careful. The brothers still needed to watch over each other. "Yeah, but . . .Mom?" Suddenly, there was another dimension added to their already perilous situation.

"Yeah." Sam replied, understanding their mother was now serving an eternity of punishment. Truly, the exchange was cruel.

And the cruelness of the act was enough that Dean only had minimal doubts. But, there were still doubts because the whole situation could be a lie, a setup to lure the Winchester brothers. "Draw the trap on the ceiling while I'm out."

Sam felt a nervous energy as he carefully drew the trap, and listened to the rushing water in the bathroom. Once he heard the water stop he knocked on the door. "Ahh, I left some clothes outside the door for you."

The door opened slightly, giving enough room for his father to place his hand through and pick up the clothes. "Thanks," he mumbled.

Sam wondered when his brother would return. Thirty minutes was plenty of time to find a McDonald's, Burger King or Wendy's.

His father exited the bathroom. He looked better, having trimmed his hair and shaved off the graying stubble. Sam suppressed a grin at his father's wardrobe. The blue shirt with the primitive art dog graphic was Sam's, the ripped up jeans were Dean's – they both seemed incredibly out of place on their dad. John stepped into the Devil's Trap not noticing he was ensnared. "Do I ask how've you been like nothing has happened?"

"I guess." Sam answered. He sat on Dean's bed, aware of the surrealism. It had only been a short while ago he had been sleeping, reading a book. "It's like that movie Castaway," he said, with a twisted smirk.

John took awhile to answer, having trouble thinking. The opportunity to have coherent thoughts seemed like a lifetime ago. "With Tom Hanks and the basketball. I liked the basketball."

"It uh, it was a volleyball." Sam picked at his fingernails, scratching a layer of his thumbnail away.

John glanced to Sam. "What?"

Sam lifted his eyes. "Wilson, in Castaway…it was a volleyball."

"Really?" John frowned.

"Yeah." Sam nodded. This was a strange conversation, memorable even.

John looked around the room, not comfortable in his foreign surroundings, nervous on what he should do next. "Everyone moved on with their lives."

Sam swallowed. This person, shell, was unlike the confident man he knew. The man Sam needed him to be. "Not really. Everything's the same, just worse." Eventually they would have to broach the subject, things had changed.

Dean came through the door in a huff, holding a Burger King bag. "Here you go. Flame broiled from . . . right." He internally admonished himself for the poor choice of words. He took the Whopper, fries out of the bag, setting them on the table. "Here you go."

The little white table with two blue upholstery covered chairs were outside of the trap. John passed through and took a seat without any reaction.

The brothers visibly relaxed. Their father had passed every test they knew. They still needed to be wary, just not hyper-vigilant. Dean took the other upholstered blue chair, while Sam remained sitting on the bed. Now they looked at their father in awe, and with many unanswered questions.

Sam was worried about his mother and ramifications for Jessica. Had she lingered on waiting for him too? What would Jessica be willing to do for him? "Did you see Mom?"

John put down the burger he hadn't even taken a bite of. "Boys, I can't. . .I'm not ready to talk about her."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, wanting to make his admission. "I told Sam, Dad. I told him everything." Even if this was not their father, he was not divulging any secrets the demon did not know.

"Dad, I made Dean promise. . ." Sam was unburdening himself also, wanting someone to tell him he had made the right decision.

"Promise?" John pushed the wrappings and the burger away, losing the appetite that really wasn't there to begin with.

Sam bowed his head, then looked back up. "To kill me if I turn evil."

"That's not going to happen, Sam." Dean interjected, heatedly. "Dad, you said I could save him. . ."

John closed his eyes, realizing how much his boys needed him, and feeling as though he was going to let them down. He couldn't help them. He couldn't help himself. "I know what I said Dean." There were decisions made, and he didn't know if they made sense in his fractured soul. What had he been thinking when he told his eldest not to be scared?

Dean pushed his chair away, and stood up. "Yeah, and we have other problems. The FBI, friggin' demon Meg, and other hunters. . ."

"Other hunters?" John placed a hand over his face, wiping it down. He thought The Brotherhood would provide some sort of protection for the boys, even though he had separated himself from them at the end. But, it shouldn't have affected the plans for the boys, their future positions.

"Within The Brotherhood, outside factions. . ." Sam continued to explain, looking at his brother in concern of their father's reaction.

"Damn," John stated. Too much had happened while he was dead. Changes he had set in motion without foreseeing the ramifications. There was a war, and he made his sons the flashpoint.

Sam saw how the conversation was spiraling out of control with their fragmented explanations. "Mac and Caleb have been watching over us, helping."

"Good, that's good." John picked at a French fry. There was an awkward silence between the three men. Dean and Sam watched as their father ate his food slowly and carefully.

Dean had remained standing, his hands against the chair. "I should call Caleb." He didn't wait for a reply from either Winchester. He had to remove himself from the room. He went outside, the pavement glistening from a Midwest rain. He leaned against the building and dialed Reaves's number. "Pickuppickuppickup," Dean said, filled with impatience after two rings.

"Hey, Deuce, what's going on? It's late, or early, or whatever." Caleb fumbled for a light switch, grimacing when the room became illuminated.

Dean bent his legs and slipped down the wall. "Caleb, Dad's here. He's alive. I. . ."

Reaves had been lying in bed, but at that news he bolted upright. "What? Dean? He's dead. Where's Sam?" Caleb worried the older Winchester had become compromised, lost or done something foolish. He tried to remain calm.

"He's with Dad." Dean said evenly. He knew the older hunter was thinking his friend had a sudden disassociation with reality. He tried to explain coherently. "Listen, it's him—we tried everything. It isn't a spirit, or a possession. It's Dad. Mom made a deal to free him, and he's with Sam."

Caleb was trying to process the information. "Okay, Dean, slow down. Where are you?"

"Ohio." The younger hunter gave a curt answer, the name of the town escaping his mind at the moment.

"Okay, go to Jim's place." Caleb rubbed his forehead, wondering what he should do next. "I'm gonna call Mac. Okay?"

Dean repeated the orders. "Yeah, we'll take him to Jim's."

"Good." Reaves nodded at the confirmation of the order. "Deuce, it'll be alright." He tried to reassure the other hunter, to reassure himself too. Dean's prompt ending of the phone call did not bring him any comfort. However, neither one had been in a Lazarus situation.

Caleb stood up, finding some clothes to put on. He needed to make a hasty departure. He called his father, not caring about the late hour. The psychic did exactly what Dean had done to him, blurting the disconcerting news. "Dad, Dean called. John's alive."

Mackland Ames had been sleeping. The burden of the role of Scholar, the only living member of the current Triad did not lead to steady sleep patterns. His mind took a few seconds to process what he'd heard. "Son. . .I need you to repeat that."

"Dad, John Winchester is alive. Dean called. Said they tested him and he passed. Dean is freaked." Caleb said each word with a pause as he cradled the phone between his chin and his neck and slipped on his jeans. He was just as distraught.

Ames had been on the receiving end of many late night phone calls, but never one so startling. "My God. John. How?" His effusive vocabulary suddenly became limited.

"Mary made a deal with the demon, an exchange, I think." Caleb had deciphered Dean's statements, but it sounded gruesome.

"Oh no." Mac sighed, summing up his and his son's reaction perfectly. There would be guilt on many levels for all of the Winchester men.

"I told them to go to Jim's." Reaves slipped on a short sleeve t-shirt from some concert he went to over ten years ago, pulled one arm through, and switched the phone to his free hand to slip his other arm in the sleeve.

"I'm leaving right now." The doctor went to the closet to retrieve his always-packed travel bag. "Where are you?"

"South Carolina." Caleb was glad he had decided to stay in the South to follow up some leads; it left him close to Kentucky. "Dad, is this possible?"

Mackland frowned. He didn't know if anyone coming back from the dead was a good idea, even his beloved friend. "I don't know, Son. I don't know."

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To be continued.. .

Thank you for reading...and were you surprised?


	2. Chapter 2

A Noble Obligation

Disclaimer: See Part 1

Author's Notes: All Hail HT Marie and thank you Heather too. Thank you Ridley for listening and prompting me on. Shout out to Mog for being an awesome beta. I was away this weekend, and without internet service. I have had a crazy week, and trying to get past it. I just want to tell everyone not to let people step on your hopes. It can be insidious. Stay true to yourself. Now, onto the the fic and I hope you enjoy and continue to be surprised.

Part 2

Dean took a deep breath, planted a smirk on his face and opened the door to Room 121. "We're supposed to meet Caleb and Mac at Jim's."

Sam was still sitting on the bed, and his father had remained in the blue upholstered chair. There had been no further conversation between the two men. "We could leave now."

"I'm not going to sleep tonight." Dean looked at his father. He didn't want to let the man out of his sight, afraid it would all be a twisted dream.

"I'll still be here in the morning." John stated, standing up. He had nothing to pack; all of his belonging had remained with the boys. "Let's go."

"I'll check us out," Sam said as he left the room. Dean understood, his brother also needed a break to work through his emotions.

Dean packed them up; his father swept the room with his eyes, picking up the habit of old. They walked out to the car.

John placed a hand on the Impala. "How've you been old girl?" he said fondly, and with his hand tried to remove some water stains.

Dean winced. "I restored her," he said softly, wanting to show he did love the car, and had taken proper care of it. To prove he could be trusted with responsibility.

John opened up the back door. "I want to stretch out." He had gracefully handled an uncomfortable situation. Sam would remain co-pilot in the front passenger seat.

They waited for Sam, patiently. The younger Winchester sauntered to the car, happy to see the passenger seat was vacant. He needed all the normalcy he could get right now.

They pulled away from the Super 8. Dean slipped in an Eagles tape, but respectfully kept the volume low. Sam was the one to break the silence. The time spent gathering his thoughts lead to how best to encourage a confrontation.

"Dad, do you want to talk about where you've been?"

Dean elbowed his brother, silently mouthing the word, 'What!'

Sam tightened his lips, and ignored his brother.

John watched the little interplay as he decided how to answer. "Do you want me to tell you that I suffered? I think that's a given. . ."

Dean glared at his brother. He attempted to smooth over Sam's faulty inquisition. "I know we dumped some stuff on your lap. I'm sorry. We've been doing all right. It was hard after-." The older Winchester brother swallowed.

Sam shook his head, helping his brother. He wanted his father to talk to them in order to find some way to place access over the tension-filled chasm. "We met Ellen. Went to the Roadhouse." The brothers had, after all, gotten the information from their father's cell phone.

"She treat you okay?" John asked. The older hunter never thought about warning his boys about Harell's establishment. He admonished his boys for their inability to follow unsaid orders. "Wished you hadn't gone and done that." 

"Right." Sam replied flatly. He seemed unable to find the correct footing to speak to his father. He sighed in frustration, wondering why he was incapable, with the opportunity given, to speak freely to his father.

John had swung his legs onto the backseat to relax. He shifted them again, planting them on the floorboard. "You boys want to tell me what else you've been up to?" He began realizing he had missed too much, Mary had sacrificed for him and he would not be able to help at all. "Sam, you had anymore visions?"

"Yeah, I have." Sam turned so he could be in eye contact with his father. "I've been trying to get a better grip on my abilities."

"Really." John stated. Mackland and Caleb had stepped in. They always wanted his youngest to have some training, but John had thought it best to wait. Sam never would have gone to college if he knew about his abilities and would have known about the demon's plans too soon.

"Yes, I should have a long time ago." Sam said, using an accusatory tone.

"Sam-" Dean interrupted. The crux of the matter was John Winchester, their father was back. They were grateful for his return. It afforded them another opportunity to tell the man they cared for him, even loved him, but then John had caused them pain too. It was a slippery slope. Any discussions were bound to bleed out, and not be held back for too long.

Sam's thoughts had been lanced, and he was bleeding. "What? God, Dad I mean you're back and it's incredible. I missed you, and realized that you weren't the asshole I made you out to be. But, I'm mad - for what you did and didn't do." He looked to Dean for support. His brother had called their father an ass on many recent occasions. Now, Dean seemed to be backing down, retreating into dutiful soldier.

John began reacting to his youngest son's tirade. "I'm not too thrilled that there's a war coming, the FBI following you and God knows what else - did I teach you anything?"

"A lot. You taught us a lot." Sam replied. "But there're some things you should have told us." The darker haired hunter shifted his gaze to his brother. "And Dean you should be angry too!"

Dean lifted his right shoulder as if it was going to provide him protection from his brother's disappointment in him. "I'm not. Dad gave his life for mine, Sammy."

The blond hunter looked in the rearview mirror. John didn't lift his gaze, but the silence was confirmation of the truth, which until now had only been a prior allegation. John had given his life and the Colt to the demon so his son could live. How do you rage against a man when you needed to beg forgiveness from him?

The Impala was plunged in silence for an hour until John extended an olive branch. "Who won the Superbowl?"

"The Colts," Sam answered.

"Peyton finally did it," the older hunter replied, trying to put those menial facts back into his broken thoughts. John continued to ask questions to catch up on the year he had missed.

" Brittany dumped K-Fed." Dean added with a smirk.

"Yeah, that and the war in Iraq are the two biggest news stories." Sam rolled his eyes.

It was a peace offering they all accepted.

Dawn was creeping up the horizon as Pastor Jim's farm came into sight. It lacked the liveliness the old minister had brought to the land by his very presence. John's truck was in the yard, oddly placed when its former owner was in the Impala instead of behind the Chevy's wheel.

"Caleb's here." Dean stated the obvious. "He took the truck after. . ." The older Winchester brother still had a problem with the pre-death, death and arisen concept. He didn't want to mention the stage between pre-death and alive again.

"Yeah, that Jeep was looking bad, like my truck does now." John shook his head as he exited the Impala.

Sam gave a quick knock at the door, and then the threesome entered the screened in porch. Scout was waiting for them as their initial greeting party. The dog ambled over to Sam and Dean, sniffed John and waited to be patted. He followed them as they entered the main house to be greeted by Reaves, pointing a 9 millimeter at them.

"Damien, what the fuck? Put the gun down." Dean stepped in front of his father.

"Sorry about the warm greeting. I have to make sure." Caleb gestured with the gun for the brothers to move away from John. "Step away. I know it's you two. He wouldn't expect anything else." Caleb jutted his chin towards his mentor. Dean remained in front of his father. "Step away, Deuce."

"Dean. . ." John placed a hand on his oldest son's shoulder. He let it linger for a moment. Other than the hug there hadn't been much physical contact with his boys. John tapped Dean's shoulder, signaling he wanted the boy to stand down. John grinned at Caleb. "You always wanted to shoot me."

It took only a moment for Reaves to verify that the real John Winchester was before him. He tucked the gun away in his waistband, and embraced his mentor. "Damn, what did you do to make them spit you out?" He pounded John on the back, and sucked in the emotion he could feel brewing. He backed up, studied the lines on John's face. "Did you make some sort of Persephone deal?"

John couldn't hide his wince. His voice faltered as he answered. "Demeter had more say in her arrangement."

"Not funny, Damien." Dean growled. He hadn't thought about his father's resurrection as being a temporary condition.

One of Caleb's eyebrows darted up. "Not much is, Kid."

"Truck looks like shit." John walked past Caleb, and headed into the kitchen. It was always the main meeting place amongst the hunters.

Reaves frowned at the two boys. "You taking it back?" he called after John's retreating back as he followed the older man.

"No, God knows what you've done in there." John smirked. He crossed his arms, feeling uncomfortable without Jim there fussing over them. He had hoped the blue and white kitchen would have the same solace. "Where's your father? Figured The Scholar would want in on this reunion."

"Mac your friend does." Ames came in through the kitchen door, dropping his leather bag at the door. He strode in a few steps, grasped John's forearm and then pulled him into an embrace. "John, you've been missed."

John didn't reply, caught up in the unabashed emotion of the other man. He had missed them all. It was all becoming a heady feeling tempered only by the fact that his wife had made an incredible sacrifice. "Heading up the Triad's aged you."

Mackland chuckled, and pointed to the white patches of hair above his ears. "I blame your sons for this and this."

"That was there before," Dean commented with a smile. They all felt it - the warmth of their dysfunctional family being together, like old times.

The adage, 'It's five o'clock somewhere,' came into Sam's mind as Caleb opened the refrigerator and removed a six pack of beer. The freezer was stocked. The pantry had main staples. The barn had the chickens producing eggs and Jim's brew was in the pit. They were all set for awhile.

Around the kitchen table with plates emptied of bacon and eggs the hunters talked of their plans.

"You need to stay here." Mackland stated, opening the dishwasher and loading his plate inside. "The other hunters need to remain oblivious."

Caleb was onto his second beer. There was one more six pack in the refrigerator. "How about some plastic surgery?"

"Plastic surgery?" Sam laughed, looked at his father and pictured another face.

John glared at Caleb. "You don't mess with this."

"He can come and go, locally." Mackland sat down again. "Other people can see him, just not hunters."

"They don't come around here anymore, since Jim . . ." Caleb looked at the silver Budweiser bottle. He had found the body, prepared it, salted and burned it. He had tried to stay detached, but kept faltering throughout the whole process. Jim Murphy had been his anchor and a steadfast force for many.

Ames gave a reassuring nod to his son. "I would invite you to New York City to blend in with the crowd, but I'm being watched."

"Watched? Who?" John glanced at the others, surprised at their mundane reaction.

Sam leaned back in his chair, nursing his beer. "Other hunters planning their next attack."

"It's gotten that bad?" The oldest Winchester had always known about the factions within The Brotherhood, but never would have believed they would move against The Triad and its future.

"Yeah, Sam was set up, Caleb taken out of the picture and it looks like we got revenge. . ." Dean explained as if he was reciting a grocery list.

John felt responsible. As the Knight he should have protected Jim and Mac. The Pastor's death especially weighed on him. He gestured with his beer bottle to Reaves. "How's the Knight job working for you?"

"Full time gig with no benefits." Reaves grinned. It was strange to have to tell John about what he missed. "I gave up the day to day operations of Tri-Corp."

John blinked. There was just one bombshell after another. It was difficult to assimilate the information even with the feeling of camaraderie brought about by being with his sons, Mac and Caleb. "Wow, didn't think my death would lead to all this."

"Don't get delusions of grandeur." Caleb smirked, and winked at Sam who shook his head at the Star Wars reference.

"We aren't too happy to have Damien up our asses all the time." Dean punched Caleb's shoulder. "Turns up like a bad penny."

John grinned. "Could have told you that the Knight's job is dealing with all the whiners."

"Pardon me?" Mackland interrupted the conversation, feeling as if a joke was being made at his expense. Doctor Mackland Ames was not a whiner. "I know you are not talking about me or Jim, for that matter."

John shrugged in response.

Caleb cleared his throat, and brought John's silver ring from his jean pocket. "I think you should have this back." He placed it in his palm, and held it out to his mentor.

John took the ring, and studied it.

"Might want to wear it this time. It provides protection from possession." Ames suggested, showing the silver Scholar ring he wore on his right hand.

"The job's still yours, Caleb." John slipped the ring on his right hand, leaving his left hand to wear his wedding band. "I'm relegated to consulting for now."

Reaves just nodded, not really sure if he was relieved or not. He looked at his two charges. Dean and Sam Winchester did not make the Knight position easier.

Sam was talking to him, and broke his reverie. "Are you going to get Dad a new identity?"

"Yeah, yeah," Caleb scratched his stomach. How long had they been sitting in the kitchen? "I'll have Sawyer work on it."

Dean frowned. "You're going to tell him about Dad?"

Unfortunately, no one outside the five at the table would know about John for now, although Bobby would have to be considered. "No, I'll work around it. Don't worry." Caleb tried to punch Dean's shoulder, and was surprised when it was blocked.

Dean grinned and stood up. "I'm making a beer run. Think it's time we break out something special."

He went out the kitchen door and walked to the nearby barn. He pulled open the door, and smiled at the smell of hay. He went to the root cellar, or the 'Pit' as it had been called when his father worked on cars. There was enough of Jim's brew to take them through a lot of special occasions. There was only one occasion that mattered - when the demon was finally stopped.

Dean picked up a case, lifted it on to the level ground and eased out of the cellar. He looked up as the door opened, and continued dusting himself off. "Don't trust me to bring enough back?" he stated to Caleb as he closed the root cellar doors.

"No, thinking you may drink it all to take the edge off that scene." Caleb stepped forward, and sat down on the crate so Dean would be unable to avoid a conversation.

"What? Man, did you look at him?" The younger hunter paced slightly. His father's appearance showed the signs of what he had experienced, looking worn and tired. "And we told him about all our screwups, expecting him to fix them." Dean added to his already suffocating guilt. The brothers had burdened their father.

"Not right this minute, but give him time. . ." Caleb had confidence in John. The older man had the ability to fight adversity. They had all gotten a second chance. They would be damned if they didn't take the opportunity and use it for their advantage.

Dean understood the psychic. There was a war coming, and they needed every available man, but this was his father. John shouldn't have suffered. It should have been Dean. "I did this."

Caleb shook his head. Dean was only one part of a complicated equation - parents sacrificing for their children, love, revenge, conspiracies, and the supernatural as the backdrop. "Seems like everyone made choices."

"I wasn't given a chance," Dean replied. "I just want to runaway. Forget everything, everyone. . ."

"And find yourself?" Reaves aptly finished the sentence. Caleb and Sam had been able to attend college, be exposed to another lifestyle while Dean remained locked in. "I don't think you have that luxury anymore."

The psychic saw the other man's disappointed demeanor.

"Deuce, you're the only one I know that's always known your direction, never faltered. . ." Caleb tried to bolster the younger man. Dean had been bristling over the Winchester brother's erratic state of affairs.

"There's a first time for everything." Dean didn't want to talk anymore and gestured for Caleb to move off the crate. "We better get back."

Reaves respected the younger hunter's decision to discontinue the conversation. "Yeah, your father started to look under the kitchen sink for the tequila." Caleb took one end, the younger hunter the other and they brought the beer into the house.

Night fell, a few steaks, and more beers later the men moved to the living room where the beagle, Harper Lee, lay in front of the fire place. Scout remained by Sam who sat hunched down in the overstuffed chair in a slight stupor. "So truth or dare?" The youngest hunter asked as he wiped the beads of sweat from the brown bottle.

"What?" Dean was sitting on the floor, his back against the couch.

Sam narrowed his eyes, and lifted his beer towards the other men in the room. "They're all keeping secrets."

Mackland shifted slightly in the other overstuffed chair. Caleb and John sat on opposite ends of the couch.

Reaves toed Dean's shoulder, Dean stood up, and extended a hand to Sam. "Okay little brother. . . One big conspiracy theory." Dean chuckled.

"It is!" Sam moved the glass bottle in an arc; his brother took it out of his hand. "Dean, they know stuff and not the little things like college baseball scouts checking you out, but big things. Dad too - big." Sam stretched his arms out wide.

Dean shook his head and helped his brother stand up. "He's a maudlin drunk. We're calling it a night." He pushed Sam towards the stairs.

"Not before he made an ass out of himself." Caleb called out. "Dad, guess that talk didn't help."

"Evidently not," Mackland commented as he looked at John.

"Need something to tease him about later." Dean kept prodding his brother forward.

"Shut up." Sam mumbled.

When they got to their room on the second floor Sam sat down on the bed and allowed Dean to pull off his sneakers. More than a few beers left him as gangly as a twelve-year-old.

"John Winchester is a great man. A. Great. Man."

Dean wrinkled his nose. He hadn't watched his little brother. They were all drinking too much, talking too loudly and enjoying their time together. "What the hell did you drink tonight?"

"Not enough, man. Not enough." Sam lay back on the bed, sprawled horizontally.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed, his back to his brother. "Are we gonna have a conversation that I'm gonna hope you forget in the morning?"

"Probably." Sam sighed. "What other person on earth can even understand what I'm going through?"

Dean didn't answer. The boys were having separate experiences. Dean was racked by guilt because his father gave his life for his. Sam's guilt stemmed from having embraced being a hunter after his father had died. John's return from the dead may have caused a reevaluation in Sam's choice of atonement.

"There's no reference point, Dude." Dean didn't know anyone that went through this. "It's Dad. He's back. I mean our dad is back."

Sam moved to the side of the bed, no longer taking up all the room. "He came back to us, his ungrateful sons. Anyone else would still be down there celebrating." The darker haired hunter rambled. "It's been a roller coaster ride—I'm so confused."

Confusion was something Dean could understand. One moment he wanted to bask in the return of his father, the next moment he wanted to distance himself from the emotional turmoil. "Mac and Caleb are getting their chick flick moment with him."

"I know. What I'm saying is that everything just got more complicated." Sam closed his eyes; too many beers affected his thought process. "It's a mixed blessing." He curled to his side, towards his brother.

"Sammy, we don't get many breaks." Dean lay down; he hadn't removed his boots so he let his feet hang over the edge of the bed. "This is a break, and I'll take it."

"He'll shoot me if I go evil." Sam opened his eyes. "Won't even flinch."

"Stop it." Dean's stomach lurched. He had forgotten the burden now was not solely his. "It's Dad. He loves you, Sam. And no one is going to shoot you. I told you. I'm gonna save you."

Sam gave his brother a tight grin. "Who's gonna save you, man." He had watched his brother falter. "I can see the guilt eating you up."

Dean shrugged. He had gone well past his endurance, but kept persevering. It had been his only solution. "Wish Pastor Jim would . . . he would fix everything." He remembered Jim's ability to temper John's narrow mindedness when it came to the hunt and life. John, Mac and Jim together had always made for better times. "The Triad used to take care of everything - like magic."

Sam closed his eyes again, too tired to continue on. "Tomorrow we should visit his grave."

"Yeah, maybe." Dean watched over his brother. Caleb had burned Jim's body then took what ashes remained and sprinkled them in the pond. Just like his mother, the grave just contained a marker. There was no spirit or body buried beneath. "You know you, me and Dad-we should give this up. Go to Mexico."

" Mexico? No longer hunters?" Sam's eyes remained closed. "What about Caleb, Mac and our other friends?"

It wasn't a well thought out plan; it was a spur of the moment decision. "We can have some sort of commune. Let Griffin have The Brotherhood."

Sam turned his head, opened his eyes and looked at his brother. "You don't mean that."

"I do." Dean focused on the cracks in the plaster ceiling. "Maybe the magic is over. Cut and run while we can. Save ourselves." It was blasphemy speaking the words under Jim's roof. He wondered if the deceased Guardian would threaten him in his dreams again.

Sam burped then closed his eyes. "Dad won't go for it. Mac won't and neither will Caleb. And you can't give this up either because there are too many people to protect."

"Take care of your own, first," he mumbled under his breath so his brother wouldn't hear him. He twisted his ring. He had wanted the ring so much. Now when it became difficult he considered leaving like a fair-weather friend. Taking care of his own first meant taking care of The Brotherhood. He wanted a return to the glory days of The Brotherhood. He couldn't let others tarnish the secret group. There was a standard of honor amongst most of the hunters. He was committed, married for better or worse.

Dean waited for the telltale even breathing of his brother. He went to the door and listened, hearing the murmured conversation below. He remained listening to what was being said, wondering if his father would listen to Caleb's and Mac's advice. Dean tuned out the voices. He needed to distance himself from all the things that reminded him of how 'not in control' he felt. He shut the door, went to the window, opened it and stepped on to the roof of the porch.

With careful footsteps, he climbed down to the ground below and made his way to the lake to seek solace.

In the living room the three men continued their vigil as the brothers went upstairs, refusing to give into sleep. Caleb stretched out his legs on the couch. "God, Johnny, I missed you." He placed the beer bottle on the carpeted floor, next to the other bottle he had finished. Laziness and his low alcohol tolerance prevented him from getting a third. "Things just weren't the same."

"Another maudlin drunk," John quipped. He patted Reaves's legs. "So, giving away your possessions? What, did you find Jesus?"

Caleb bent his knees. He wished he had a lot more faith. "More like I found a whole hell of a lot of responsibility."

"Losing you and Jim was too much." Mackland added. "I know for you it's difficult because Mary made a heartbreaking choice only a loving person could make." Ames wanted to recognize John's pain. They hadn't spoken of it. "I am grateful." The Brotherhood was bigger than all of them, and there was a reason why there were three people in control most of the time. Mac did not want to see The Brotherhood fractured by factions. He didn't want it all to end with him. It would have been a disservice to Jim and to John's work. "It's selfish because you are suffering." Again he reverently thanked Mary. "I am truly sorry."

Caleb nodded, not able to add anything more to his father's statements. "Me too."

John rubbed the back of his neck. When it came down to it, The Brotherhood would always lose to his wife. He wasn't as good of a Knight as he should have been. He shouldered the blame for bringing about the issues within The Brotherhood. He should have been more steadfast. He hoped his sons would be less selfish when they came into their positions, if they came into them. "What else has happened?

"Dean knows Sam's the next Scholar," Reaves stated, losing that warm feeling that had permeated his body earlier.

"How about his role?" John asked. His boys were smart. He had agreed to let them be trained to be part of the next Triad in the belief it would provide protection for them, but now he seemed mistaken.

"No, though I think Samuel knows, as was indicated by that scene earlier." Mackland folded his hands. "Right now it's the elephant in the room we are trying to ignore."

"Are you going to tell them? I think it might be damned time." At least with knowledge they could protect themselves.

Caleb placed his feet on the ground and sat up, at the alert to defend his father. "Says the man that never wanted them to be told."

For John it had been family first and The Brotherhood second. But over time the line had blurred and these men had become his family. "People change."

"I hope so, Johnny." Caleb bent down and picked up his bottles. "Picking up the pieces you left behind. . ."

"Pieces?" John frowned. He was the one who had been alone, his soul forgotten. His boys remained together with others standing with them.

"Dean trying to keep it all together after you burdened him with that fuckin' secret. Kill your brother if he turns evil?" Caleb wished he had gotten that other beer. He had mourned John until Dean had told him in New York City what John had said. The fond memories had become clouded by John's final act.

John recalled his words. It had seemed so long ago. "Or save him. Dean can save him."

"Well, seems as though Sam extracted another promise from Deuce when he found out." Caleb tried to remove the anger in his voice because, like Dean, he hadn't wanted to burden his mentor. But, it was impossible to refrain from releasing the months of buildup.

"I heard," John answered coldly.

Mackland interrupted what was becoming a heated exchange. "You need to talk to both of them," he said to John. "They need their father."

John looked away. This John, raised from death, did not know how to deal with his sons and their current situation. "I need Mary. We can't have what we want."

"You have to try," Mac prompted, seeing how lost his friend was.

"It isn't like they are going to kick your ass back to hell." Reaves stood up and shifted both bottles to his left hand.

"Probably could right now." John picked at the blue shirt his son had given him to wear.

"I wouldn't let them hear you say that." Reaves laughed and his father gave in with a chuckle of his own.

"Calling it a night, boys," John announced.

Caleb put out his hand; John accepted it and allowed the younger hunter to pull him to his feet.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

A Noble Obligation

By: Tidia

Disclaimer: See part 1

Author's Notes: Finally, things are working because I had no other ficlets to burn through. I hated not posting, but a discussion with Ridley led me to believe I had to wait because we found this part to be important for the direction of The Brotherhood and with Dean finding out he is The Guardian. (We are worried that Kripke may effect our plans-lol) I am curious to read your questions and comments after reading this part. Thank you for all the kind reviews and for sticking with this story. I truly appreciate it.

_End of Part 2_

_"Probably could right now." John picked at the blue shirt his son had given him to wear. _

_"I wouldn't let them hear you say that." Reaves laughed and his father gave in with a chuckle of his own. _

_"Calling it a night, boys," John announced. _

_Caleb put out his hand; John accepted it and allowed the younger hunter to pull him to his feet._

Part 3

Dean had been sneaking off to the pond since he was little. The first time he had taken the rowboat that Jim kept on shore young Dean pushed himself to the middle of the pond and just lay there for awhile. The water seemed to whisper to him in a soothing female tone. It instilled in him a calmness that infused him with courage. He believed it was his mother who had found a way to her son. When Dean returned to shore Jim was waiting for him. He thought surely he was in trouble and facing dire punishment.

The Pastor had placed a hand on his shoulder. "The water teaches us that life is forever changing." He had smiled at Dean, probably realizing his comment was a bit too lofty for an adolescent. "My soul guided me to live near the water because it brings calmness. It is a safe place for you, Dean." And with that comment Jim had gone to bed.

There had been no repercussions and Dean had taken the Pastor's words as encouragement. He often sneaked out of the farmhouse and took solace at the pond. The last time had been over two years ago.

Now he lay in the boat with his eyes closed; the wooden boards supported his frame. He waited, willing the mystical murmurings to come to him.

'It is time for a new understanding.'

He heard the words in his mind. They were not the tranquil words he was accustomed to.

'Another form, another way. Our reality is forever changing, never to become what it once was. Open your eyes and behold.'

He did as he was asked, sensing no malice. A feeling of trust enveloped him and a wave of exhilaration rushed through his body. He felt alive, no longer downtrodden.

She was standing on the water, soft circular ripples echoed from her bare feet. She wore a gossamer gown with a hood that veiled her face, brushing the tip of her nose. Long, wavy, dark hair fell to her waist. On each of her wrists were multiple strands of pearls with one string on each wrist linking to a silver ring she wore on the third finger of each hand. Her lips did not move, but he could hear the words. "I am Vivien, and Nimue, and here La Dame Du Lac."

Dean was startled and his first reaction was to make a flippant remark or try to shoot her. However, he was filled with elation, thoughts kept flooding his mind. He knew her. She had always been there.

"You're The Lady of the Lake," Dean said with awe at a fairytale coming to life. As he had told Sam on many occasions, seeing was believing. "Jim told us stories."

She had a fragile appearance but it did not hide the aura of a powerful force. She didn't smile, her lips remained relaxed. Where encounters with the demon were dramatic, this was more of a serene assertiveness.

"He told you about Lancelot who came to me as a babe." Her voice was soft, even toned in his mind. "I fostered him until he was a great warrior. I created a ring for him to protect him from all magic." She stretched out her hands. The twin silver bands sparkled. "Then there was Arthur, beloved King. For him Excalibur, a mighty sword until the Battle of Camlann. I provided passage to Avalon."

"Yeah, that's what Jim said. But there was a lot more drama when he told the story." Jim used different voices, add in battles and exciting swordfights. "Did he know about you, ah, being here?"

"The Guardian knew. He always knows."

Dean was realizing Jim had secrets. He knew the other hunters respected the pastor, even feared him and it seemed to be connected to the mysticism of his position. "Why are you here? Why now?"

"You are chosen."

"That's my brother." Dean leaned forward. Perhaps Jim had sent her to help them. "Can you help us against the demon?"

"No, the demons are no concern of mine, only the chosen is my interest." The Lady had not moved, the ripples under her feet still echoed outward, making their way towards the shore. "The chosen are not chosen for their own sake, but the sake of the unchosen."

"The unchosen?" His stomach tightened. He had been chosen to live and the people who made that choice were suffering. He didn't like people making choices on his behalf. There were repercussions to his soul. "My father died for me and now my mother's being punished." He looked towards the house.

"If we do not forgive then we will not be forgiven."

"Forgive them?" Dean stretched for the oars. "I need to be. . ." And he understood. He flexed his palms in and out. He needed to forgive his father for removing Dean's decisions.

"This is your path. You lose your life and you will save it." With a flick of her hand the wooden row boat moved in a circle on the water "Lose it by submitting to death - death of ambitions, wishes and dreams. Keep back nothing."

"I did that a long time ago." Dean nodded, hoping The Lady would continue to advise him and guide him. He was honored she was there because sometimes he believed all his wrongdoings would corrupt him. But here was proof he had followed the right path and there was no blackness in his heart. He could assume his role as Sam's protector. And succeed.

"Look for only yourself and you will find hatred, loneliness, despair and ruin. There is more for you. There is this." She outstretched her hands, palms up and Dean watched as a silver hued stream of water, jumped back and forth between each hand. "And more."

Dean was puzzled, not comprehending The Lady of The Lake. He gave the ethereal woman a twisted grin. "So, are you going to give me Excalibur?" That would be a weapon which would defeat the yellow-eyed demon.

"The time of Excalibur has passed."

"Will I see you again?" Somehow Dean felt their conversation was ending and he wanted to be cocooned for awhile longer.

"Soon, there is a destiny," she replied. Her gown shimmered as if covered with dew, and her skin glowed pale like moonlight. And then there was just a mist that circled him before drifting away and finally dissipating.

Dean didn't know how long their conversation had lasted. There had just been silence between the two and now he could hear the evening sounds of the pond. He sighed. "Odd," he said.

This was not an experience to be shared. He picked up the paddles and began rowing back to shore, feeling better about his situation with his father. Dean hopped out of the boat and dragged it to the protective tree it was lashed to when not in use.

He heard someone clear their throat. Turning, he saw John Winchester walking out of the shadows. The limited glow of evening wrapped him in both the light and the dark.

"Who were you talking to, Dean?" John asked, having heard his son's voice carrying over the pond, but unable to make out any words.

Dean looked out to the calm waters. "You didn't see her?"

"See who?"

"No one, myself, just. . ." This truly was his secret, and maybe Jim's too. "How did you know I was here?"

John grinned, his teeth flashing. "Saw you come out here one time when you were a kid. Was going to drag your ass back in, but Jim stopped me. Said you were safe and to leave you be."

Dean bit his lip. Jim had always treated Dean well, making him feel special. This connection to The Lady of the Lake was proof Dean was worthy of his family as their defender and protector. He wished he could thank Jim for so much. He looked at his father and at the same time both men said the words of absolution.

"I'm sorry."

Their laughter echoed into the night air.

"Kiddo, I should have never. . .with your brother." John placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "You can save him. You have a chance."

"I know, Dad. I know that now. I forgive you." He gave his father a twisted smile. "Took it out on the trunk of the Impala, Caleb, Sammy. . .Sammy most of all."

John's hand remained on Dean's shoulder. He gave it a squeeze when he registered his son's last comment. "You two bump a little more than just heads?"

"The occasional right hook is good for a man. He deserved it." Dean recalled hitting Sam after his comment about Dean looking for John's replacement. Dean was in so much pain it was easier to lash out at someone who wasn't going to leave him at that moment. He had regretted it, and tried to make it up to his brother in a thousand small ways.

"I'm sure he did." John removed his hand. He took a step forward instigating a walk around the farm. "You've kept everything together." It was Dean who was a steady force; his flamboyancy with words hid his practical nature.

Dean stuffed his hands in his pocket. "Sure, in an 'I have no idea what I'm doing' kinda way."

John crossed his arms against the cool evening air. "Could have done worse. You're both still alive."

"About that. . ." Dean stopped their walk, and faced his father.

"Dean, I'm your father." John shook his head. "No parent wants their child to die before they do. It's wrong."

"Dad, not that way," Dean said in a low voice. He felt like his legs would no longer hold him. He crouched down. "My number was up. Did you think I wouldn't figure it out? And then have to live with it."

John kneeled down next to his son. "You were dying in that hospital . . . I had to do something, and I did, and you're alive."

"But I wasn't." Dean's throat constricted with emotion. "Everyday, up until you came back, I died a little more. Wanted to get closer to hell, closer to you. . ."

John gave his son a watery smile. "It would have been hell if you hadn't lived."

Dean shook his head. "I got offered a deal to bring you back and I almost took it. Don't know why I didn't. . .just kept thinking that if I make this deal then somehow it'll turn on Sammy or you. I couldn't take that risk. Maybe I should have-"

"No, listen to me. I didn't do right by you and I knew your mother was disappointed in me. I was looking for a way to make it all right. To do what parents, a father, a good father should do. I tried to wrap everything I should have done everyday for twenty years in one single act." He stood up, and offered his hand to his son to help him stand.

Dean accepted the hand and allowed his father to bring him to his feet. "So it was all a ploy to win father of the century. Prize is yours, hands down."

"Prize is mine." John looked at his son. He should have told his sons everyday they were important to him, a priority. "We still have time to make everything right. Bring your mom peace and me too. . ."

Dean nodded as John placed a hand on the back of his neck. They walked back to the farmhouse with the feeling there had been a rebirth, a renewal. Together, Dean, Sam and John could fix everything.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

A Noble Obligation

By: Tidia

Disclaimer: See part 1

Author's Notes: I think in most of my replies to reviews I mentioned that this is a twisty fic. It really does have a direction and I could spoil it for you all, but what would be the fun in that? (Unfortunately I totally would break under pressure and divulge the truth. )(grin) I hope readers understand that Ridley and I don't write 22 fics in a year so we do require a little patience. In the last part I added The Lady of the Lake—this will be the only use of Arthurian legend. There will be no quest for the Holy Grail, Excalibur, etc. One last thing…I think readers are smart, and so I don't like "anvil" moments. Ridley and I always weave something into the stories which we carry through—little clues and such which we hope readers appreciate.

Thank you to Mog for being queen beta as I pressured her to finish. And to Ridley for our whacky conversations and the fact we now feel a kinship with Kripke. (Grin)

* * *

Part 4 

Dean's bed was shaking. He didn't know why, and he didn't care, but he did want it to stop. He opened his eyes to find Caleb standing over the bed. "What the-"

Reaves stopped moving the bed. "Bobby called, wants us to do a job. We're leaving in ten."

Dean hugged the pillow and called after Caleb's retreating back. "We're leaving in thirty, Damien."

Five minutes later his feet were on the ground. He brought some clothes into the bathroom and took a quick shower. With hair still damp, he went downstairs to the kitchen.

Sam was waiting for him at the table. A mug of steaming coffee sat on the table and Dean claimed it for himself.

"Where's . . ."

"Not here," Sam replied. "They should be here when we get back."

"So what's going on?" Dean carried his coffee to the refrigerator, foraging for some breakfast.

"Bobby said there've been some problems by Calhoun's in Knoxville. Possible possession. Caleb's packing the car." Sam grinned. "He wants to leave in five minutes."

Dean smiled. "I think I'm in the mood for some eggs. How about you, Sammy? Scrambled or sunny side?"

"That's going to take longer than five minutes." Sam stated.

"I know."

"You two are such asses. Fuckin' eggs." Caleb groused. The Winchester brothers were enjoying a restful breakfast while he had been packing up the car. He took out his 9 millimeter. "To the car. Now."

"Hey, it's the most important meal of the day." Dean chuckled as he took one last spoonful of eggs and washed it down with the rest of the juice. Sam folded his toast in half and brought it with him. Caleb holstered his gun.

Dean slid into the driver's seat of the Impala. "So what else did Bobby tell you?"

"Told me I was his favorite hunter after the way you two have been acting." Sunglasses covered Caleb's eyes. "Then he went on about the riverfront in Knoxville and some guy harassing people."

"You said Bobby mentioned a possession, not a drunk and disorderly," Sam commented from the backseat where he stretched his long legs.

"You better hope there's something there." Dean flicked his eyes towards Caleb, then back to the road.

Reaves dropped his sunglasses down towards the bridge of his nose. "Threatening me, Deuce?"

Sam ignored the immature twosome in the front seat. They fed off each other's smartass remarks. "So, we're not going to talk about anything - right?"

Caleb turned around to face the youngest Winchester. "Right. I'm still processing."

"Processing?" Sam grinned.

Reaves pushed his sunglasses back up. "Yep, and I'm hungry too. I'm thinking barbecued ribs because I didn't eat breakfast."

Somewhere over the state border they stopped for ribs before making their way to Knoxville.

Once at Calhoun's, they spoke to Bobby's friend, Tim, who was worried about a homeless man who seemed to change overnight.

Tim was a waiter, a long timer for a place where the wait staff was made up mostly of college students from the University of Tennessee. "Rich was a nice guy. I mean he had his problems, but he used to come by at closing, help clean up and we'd give him some food."

"Do you know where he is now?" Sam asked, trying to keep his voice low despite the clanging from the kitchen. Tim had taken the three men to the prep area for a private conversation.

"Used to camp on the other side of the river."

"We'll check it out," Dean replied. He started to walk away, followed by the other two hunters.

"Be careful," Tim warned. "Like I told Bobby, he's been mean, yelling at people, pushing them around. Probably going to have to call the cops if it keeps up."

"Okay, thanks." Caleb gave a slight wave of acknowledgement.

The hunters returned to the car. One side of the river had restaurants and bars, the other side had electrical towers and green grass. They crossed the bridge, and spent an hour locating the homeless man's camp.

"This must be his set up." Dean crouched down at a well worn pan, butane stove top, and pieces of wood that may have been furniture.

"Do we know anything about this area?" Caleb scanned the area with an EMF detector. "Any disturbed spirits?"

"We can go to the library or wait for him to come back," Sam suggested, looking down at the river.

"We know he's going to go back to the waterfront tonight." Caleb shut the scanner off. "As senior hunter," he pointed to himself with a smile. The Winchester brothers rolled their eyes. "I say we do some research and see what we can figure out."

"You paying for dinner, senior hunter?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

Reaves snorted. "Don't I always?"

Dean kicked off the dirt on his boots as they started to trek back to the car. "No. Remember that time in Idaho?"

"Idaho?" Caleb frowned. That was one state where they hadn't spent a lot of time hunting.

"Yeah, there was that stand. . ." Dean added to jog his friend's memory.

Caleb's mouth dropped open at the vague recollection.

"It was a militia rally," Dean said. "A free pancake breakfast to raise money."

"So, what's your point?"

"I made a donation." Dean pointed to himself, mimicking Caleb's previous action. "I paid."

Sam walked ahead of the other two hunters. "You guys attend militia rallies? You're both starting to scare me."

"Hey," Dean called out to his brother. "Where do you think your gun comes from? Best source of weapons in the USA."

Sam shook his head. Sometimes he liked to ignore the underbelly of their living.

The University of Tennessee was nearby. The three men entered the library, quickly finding two computers available. Caleb and Sam sat down, the youngest hunter immediately logged on to Google. He glanced at the site Reaves brought up.

"What are you doing?" Sam knew the older hunter could do no research on yahoomail.

Caleb shrugged. "Checking my e-mail."

Dean had pulled up a chair next to his brother and settled back, his hands folded in his lap. "Watching you research."

Sam exhaled loudly and pinned both men with a withering look. "Go do something."

Reaves laughed, and pointed to the computer screen. "This is pretty funny. . ." Someone had sent him a humorous email involving twins. Dean read over the psychic's shoulder and began to laugh too.

Sam stood up, reached over and clicked the mouse, closing the email program. "Pick me up in an hour." Research would go much faster without distraction.

"You sure, 'cause we don't really mind. . ." Dean held his hands up in what was supposed to be a calming action.

Sam waved them off and focused on what the search engine had brought up. "I mind. Go."

Reaves pulled the older Winchester brother towards the exit. They went through the glass doors, and squinted at the warm sun still high in the sky.

"It's too easy." Dean said, slipping on his sunglasses. "We can check out the Body Farm."

Caleb grinned. "Ooh, a forensic anthropology cadaver testing ground. Maybe we can find you a date."

"Isn't that where you met your last girlfriend?" Dean retorted.

Dinner time found the hunters at Calhoun's sitting at a table on the porch overlooking the river. Caleb and Dean had talked their way into the Body Farm with some fake ids. Sam had been less successful.

"There is nothing connected to this area. There's Baker Peters Jazz Club with a ghost from the Civil War. Same story with the Bijou Theater. The local high school had an incident with a guy killing his girlfriend. Then there's the asylum and nursing home hauntings."

"Those places are just magnets," Caleb added, swirling his glass of red wine before taking a drink.

"Anything else?" Dean prompted, spreading butter on a warm roll.

Sam thought a moment, remembering two other ghost sightings. "A local subdivision and the women's residence at the University of Tennessee."

Dean took a bite of his roll. "Okay, so, we wait."

"Not long." Reaves gestured with his glass. "I think that's our man."

Sam waved down Bobby's waiter friend. "Tim, is that him?" The youngest hunter pointed to a large, disheveled man wearing an overcoat.

He was standing near a park bench, heckling the wary passersby. "You bring ruination!"

"That's Rich." Tim confirmed, shaking his head in disappointment. "Think you can help?"

"Only one way to find out." Caleb drained the glass of wine and stood up.

The other two hunters followed, Sam grabbing a roll before leaving the table. . "How we going to handle this?"

"We need to isolate him. There are too many people around." Dean looked at the college students and others who were out on the riverfront.

"We need confirmation first. Stay here," Caleb said. He walked towards Rich. The homeless man growled at Reaves. "Cristo," the older hunter said and received an immediate reaction. Rich's eyes darkened. Caleb backed away towards the other hunters.

"So, our kinda problem." Dean stated. "Split up and corner him."

Sam circled around, Caleb was behind him and Dean was point. They moved the crowds along, pushing people along so that they kept their distance from Rich.

The possessed man moved further down the river walk. He kept looking around, sensing he was being followed. They just needed him to move into a more secluded area.

Suddenly, Rich reached out for a woman. She shrieked and batted him away.

"Heathens! Wanton! You all need to be scourged," he yelled, and backed away into the railing.

Caleb ran forward. "Give him some room." He tried to disperse the crowd that was gathering around the man.

"You should really keep moving." Sam suggested to some others. He hated that people were attracted to watching a train wreck. "Nothing to see here."

Dean used the distraction to get closer to the possessed man. But, as Dean stepped forward the man opened his overcoat to reveal wires and what seemed to be a bomb strapped to his body. Dean scanned the crowd, looking for Sam or Caleb but saw neither. He couldn't risk innocent lives while waiting for back-up.

"Buddy, you don't want to do this."

The possessed man climbed up on the railing. "This place needs to burn."

"Bomb!" Dean yelled out, hoping to save as many people as possible with a warning. Instinctually he should have backed away too. Instead, he lunged forward, hoping to get Rich off balance.

The possessing spirit preemptively pulled the wire and a thundering sound rumbled. Screams intermingled with smoke and the scent of burned flesh.

Caleb had lost sight of Dean and Sam. After the blast, he pushed through the crowd in a desperate attempt to locate them. He tried to use his abilities but the general panic around him was interfering. He worked to help people settle down. There didn't seem to be any injuries. He made his way back to the Impala, knowing the boys would go back as a mutual meeting place.

He sat on the hood of the Chevy for ten minutes before seeing Sam making his way up. The youngest hunter waved. "Cops came. They're handling it now."

"Where's Captain Whatever?" Caleb asked using a cannibalization of Sam's childhood nickname for his brother. Reaves narrowed his eyes to see if he could make out Dean in the distance.

Sam turned around, glancing at the riverfront. "I thought he was with you. Can you sense him?"

Caleb took a moment and shook his head. "How about your Spidey sense?"

Sam also shook his head. "We need to look for him."

They returned to the scene of the incident. Police and firefighters had swarmed the area and had the crowds well-sorted. Media crews were also around interviewing victims who were all talking about a "crazy man."

Caleb and Sam split up, taking in the faces in the crowd, looking for Dean. They met up again, both at a loss.

"If he was near the blast. . ." The younger hunter walked to the point where Dean had last been seen. Yellow tape contained the area, but the hunters ignored it, and peered over the edge.

There was debris on the docks below, some cement and the wood of the docks had been damaged too. Luckily, there were no boats docked below the blast point.

"If he went into the water. . ." Sam rubbed his forehead. If Dean had gone into the water unconscious. . . "Caleb!" Sam called out, spying some stairs and running down.

"Damnit," Reaves growled, seeing the legs dangling in the water and torso covered by debris. "Dean!"

TBC on Saturday . . .


	5. Chapter 5

Title: A Noble Obligation 5/?

By: Tidia

Disclaimer: See part 1. TIMELINE for this story is after Ridley's Who Your Friends Are, but before her recent pre-tags.

Author's Notes: I am having a great day! Great episode last night (it's about time!) and things just coming together. I want to shout out a recommendation for hionlife and her story Just Wanting. Thank you for all the reviews and I hope I have answered your questions, and keep asking them. (They make Ridley and I think, alot) Sunday night is looking like another good day to post. Ideally, I wanted this finished before the two part season finale.

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Part 5

Sam was careful as he got closer to the broken boards. He dropped on his knees and began clearing the debris that had obscured Dean's body. Caleb skidded to a stop, and began helping.

"He's not moving, Caleb."

There was a gash on Dean's temple, and some other bloody marks scattered on his torso. He was also cold to the touch, and very pale.

Caleb rested his hand on Dean's neck. "I know. He's got a strong pulse though." He placed one arm under Dean's shoulder. "Sam, we have to keep this on the QT. Get him out of here real quiet like."

Sam frowned. They needed to call for help, get an ambulance. "He needs a hospital. . ."

Caleb gripped the youngest Winchester's arm. They couldn't risk a trip to a large medical facility. "We'll get him some help." He moved Sam's hand to position it under Dean's shoulder. The two of them, held the lax body between them in a vertical position. Dean's head dropped down, and he was heavy to carry along. Thankfully, they did not attract attention as they skirted the diminishing crowds and made it back to the Impala.

Reaves fished the car keys from Dean's wet pockets and handed them to Sam. The older hunter sat in the backseat, tending to the visible wounds.

"Caleb?" Sam glanced back in the rearview mirror. His brother still hadn't awakened. Reaves was using Betadyne solution from the first aid kit and cleaning some of the cuts.

Solemnly, Caleb removed the silver ring, afraid the swelling in Dean's right wrist may spread and that with the broken finger on the same hand they would never be able to remove it. He placed the ring in his pocket for safe-keeping. Dean would want it as soon as he awoke. "Just drive, Sammy. Mac can fix this." Caleb tucked a blanket around Dean, trying to bring up his too cool temperature.

"This is crazy, man." Sam was about to follow a prominently displayed blue sign bearing a white 'H' that would guide them to the hospital. He was Dean's brother, he knew best. Dean needed proper medical care immediately, not in a few hours.

"We're playing with the Fibbies not the locals." Caleb reminded the younger man of their recent problems with the authorities. "He's going to be fine, Sam. This is your brother we're talking about."

Sam didn't answer. He pressed the gas pedal, and the Impala responded. Without stopping, Sam crossed the state line in under two hours in the cover of darkness. Dean didn't regain consciousness as they went into the late evening hours.

Mackland was waiting for them, having been alerted with Caleb's phone call. It was great having a neurosurgeon as a family friend, but a farmhouse was not a hospital. They situated Dean in his bedroom, and catalogued all his injuries. His wrist was splinted as was his finger.

Ames said his grocery list out loud. "I'll need materials from a medical supplies store to make a cast."

Mackland glanced at the two younger men who were hovering nearby, at a loss of what to do. "Help me bind his ribs." The doctor was aware of Caleb and Sam's careful attention to lifting Dean up, and assisting Mac. When they began fidgeting again, Mac made another suggestion. "Why don't you two make some coffee, and let me finish here?"

Caleb understood his father was trying to keep them occupied and pushed Sam.

Sam resisted. "But. . ."

"I just need to clean out the cuts. It isn't a three person job, and will go much faster if I finish up."

Caleb tugged at Sam's sleeve and maneuvered him to take a step. "He's in good hands Sammy, and I could use some coffee. Knowing your brother, he'll make us wait before he wakes up."

The youngest hunter nodded, and followed Reaves.

The cuts were cleaned, and the temple wound was butterflied and covered with a bandage. Ames checked the injured hunter's reflexes. They were slow, but still reactive.

"They're lost without you," he commented to the unconscious hunter. Mac knew the boys would return, making coffee as quickly as possible and probably finding something to eat in one swallow.

Hours later, with dawn turning the darkness from gray to blue, they remained in their vigil. Sam had fallen asleep sitting up with a pillow propped up behind him against the headboard. His face was turned as if still keeping watch over Dean.

Mac and Caleb slouched in seats beside the bed. There was silence between father and son. Caleb placed a hand on Dean's pajama clad leg. He shook his head at the image which came to mind.

"Anything?" Ames asked his son.

Reaves patted the younger hunter's leg and removed his hand. "Yes and no."

"That's not very reassuring." Mackland stood, went through his kit to pull out a glucose IV. "John must be disappointed in us."

"We're doing a sucky job of protecting his sons." Caleb straightened his back in the chair, leaning forward, watching his father's deft hands slide in the shiny needle.

"I thought by coming to this house perhaps Jim would provide guidance." Ames's mouth formed a grim line. "But I can't seem to hear him."

"Dad... I'm proud of you." Caleb didn't know if he ever had told his father. At this moment when the doctor was showing his fallibility it seemed warranted. The stress of being the only remaining member of The Triad during a difficult time was showing on Mac's face.

Mackland smiled at the compliment. "Thank you." He placed a hand on Dean's arm. "If he doesn't wake up we need to take him to a hospital." He spoke in a whisper, not wanting to wake Sam. "CAT scan, MRI," he listed the priority medical tests that would have to be performed. He shook his head. "They're not here at Jim's." Ames removed his hand. "I do have a duty." He reminded his son of his medical oath.

Caleb looked away, finding it interesting to push back the ragged cuticles in his fingers. "We can go to a local clinic." They had used the local facility plenty of times in the past for their minor injuries when Mac wasn't around. If they went to Louisville, then The Brotherhood lost control. It would be difficult to protect Dean from the federal authorities if he was discovered. Reaves would do it, pay with his life so Dean wouldn't have to be locked up, but then there was Sam and he would sacrifice too. It was all very complicated.

"They aren't set up for a head wound with a loss of consciousness this long." Mackland rubbed his neck in contemplation of what they should do next

Sam was not really asleep. He had purged his negative thoughts, so when Mac spoke of his doubts Sam surged forward. When he was a child he used to take comfort in Dean's presence, and he wanted that feeling back. He sat up on the bed. "Dean, come on." Sam placed a hand on Dean's forehead. "Open. Your. Eyes."

Caleb stood up, getting closer to the brothers, adding his hopefulness with Sam's.

Dean's foot twitched, proving that a little faith in the dark moments could go a long way.

"Deuce?" Reaves prompted.

Ames moved near his son, and rubbed in between Dean's clavicle bones hoping the irritating feeling would spur his patient's waking. "Son, you need to come back to us."

The actions brought a moan from the injured hunter.

Sam smiled. This was his brother, and he never let Sam down. "Come on, man. You just need to open your eyes."

With a frown Dean opened his eyes then promptly closed them again. He had a headache, and opening his eyes was not helping. In fact, he thought he couldn't feel worse until he could see a light piercing through his eyelids.

Unseeing, he batted the object away, making contact with the penlight.

"Hey, Deuce, Mac doesn't like it when you hurt his little light." Caleb chuckled.

Dean sighed. He opened his eyes, keeping them half-lidded. He allowed Mackland to finish his examination. He looked at all three hunters. Sam smiled with a goofy grin. Dean shook his head, and focused on the other two hunters. They seemed all to be waiting for him to speak, but he didn't have much to say, just one question.

"Where's Dad?"

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So, reaction? LOL 


	6. Chapter 6

Title: A Noble Obligation 6/8

By: Tidia

Disclaimer: See part 1

Author's Notes; Thank you to Mog for betaing. Thank you for Ridley for her suggestion in this part. (And Ridley has a surprise today) Thank you for all the kind notes...I have placed another note on the bottom of this fic.

End of Part 5

"Where's Dad?"

Part 6

Sam jerked back visibly upset by his brother's question. "Dad? Dad's dead, Dean. Remember the accident. . ." He didn't want to say more. He hoped he didn't have to say more.

Dean tried to sit up, but then noticed his hand was in a splint and throbbing. "And he came back," the injured man explained. He opened his eyes wide. "Mom made a deal. Sammy, I saw him. You did too." He lifted his hands and waved it at the other hunters. They had been witness to John's resurrection. "Mac? Caleb?"

Caleb's mouth dropped open. Dean was coherent but speaking nonsense, painful nonsense about his father. And Caleb knew Dean wasn't a cruel person so that only meant one thing.

It was Mackland who intervened for all of them. "Son, John isn't here."

Reaves recovered and gave the injured hunter a quirky grin. "Hell, Deuce, if he was back he'd be here telling you to suck it up."

Dean licked his lips. He was thirsty and confused. They were wrong, so wrong. They were either lying to him or telling the truth. Worse- the demon could be involved and this was a part of his scheme.

Ames had left the room and returned with a glass of water. He handed it to Dean, who looked at it suspiciously.

"We're going to have to prove this." Sam knew his brother. His distrust was warranted after what they had suffered. "Dean, what's the last thing you remember?" Sam asked with a gentle tone.

Dean took a sip of water. "Rich blowing himself up."

"Before that?" Sam continued his prompting. He couldn't allow his brother to believe their father was alive. That belief was dangerous.

"We brought Dad here after he came back." Dean rolled his eyes. He was losing patience. He wanted to see John. He shifted himself, readying to get out of bed.

"In Ohio?" Sam placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, forcing him to stay put. "Caleb called us, told us to meet him here to join up with him on a case." Seeing the different emotions on Dean's face, he continued. "Mac and Bobby were here. They had something important to look into, so we went to Knoxville. . ."

Dean rested his head back. This was sounding all too familiar. But still his father had been so real. He had one last hope. "Cristo." Nothing happened. For Dean it would have been better to believe that everyone around him, his friends and his brother were possessed, rather than face the knowledge his father was gone again.

Sam shook his head. "We're not possessed and neither are you. It never happened."

Caleb had not intruded on the brother dynamic; Sam would bring his brother to the truth. "You believe us, Deuce? This all making sense? 'cause you have us kinda worried." Reaves lifted his hand. "We're wearing our rings, and Sam still has his magical charm. The body snatchers haven't been here."

Dean knew the rings offered protection against possession as did Bobby's charm, but he was still tempted to get some holy water and check for a reaction. Mackland brought him to his senses.

"I'm sorry, Dean. It must be like losing your father all over again." The doctor said sincerely.

Dean still had the glass of water in his hand. He took another sip. Dean was unable to answer. He could recall everything about his father so clearly - the scent of cheap detergent that never fully washed out of their clothes, part gun oil, and salt. It was a unique combination of the tools of the trade. John's conspicuous whiskers on his face and his throaty, twangy voice. Dean ached for the opportunity he had with John.

But, at least his mother wasn't as condemned as their father. That had been the hardest to bear. "It's sort of a relief."

"Pff, I'm relieved too. I can imagine the choice words Johnny would have for us." Caleb said, thinking John Winchester would be none to happy with the Knight to be. "Must have been some dream."

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. He wished the well meaning hunters would leave him in peace for awhile. He was feeling every conceivable emotion. "Yeah, I guess." He noticed his silver ring was missing.

Caleb saw the concern. "It's on the nightstand." It was rare that Dean was ever without the ring. The band represented how important The Brotherhood was to him, the protection he believed it offered. The faith he had in his fellow brothers, and in his blood brother. "Your hand was swelling, and I thought you might want to keep the circulation."

Dean fumbled for the ring. The tips of his fingers brushed the inside of the band and detected a change in the metal. He gave it a quick glance. "While I was out you had it engraved?"

"What?" Sam was moving off the bed, and the mattress springs squeaked.

Somehow Dean knew he needed to keep the evolution of the ring quiet. He would read the inscription in private. "Nothing," he mumbled. "That guy exploded - didn't he?" He was sure that was a true memory, but wanted confirmation.

"Yeah," Caleb replied. With his hands he reenacted the event.

Dean shook his head at Reaves's perverted attempted at humor. "I couldn't have just imagined that part."

"No, unfortunately, and you have some injuries too." Mackland held out two Extra Strength Tylenol. "Here, just normal pain relievers."

Dean swallowed them, then emptied the remaining water from the glass.

Caleb waited for Dean's usual sarcastic remarks, and wanted to hear more about John Winchester. However, Dean only stared at the hunters with a poor attempt at being patient for them to leave.

"We should let you get some rest." Mackland placed a hand on his son's shoulder and gave it a squeeze to prompt him to move.

They went towards the door with Sam lagging behind. He hesitated at the door and closed it. He needed to speak to his brother. "I know you want some space. . ."

"I'd like ten feet to myself, but since that restraining order isn't likely to come through any time soon, you might as well take a seat and tell me what's on your mind." Dean would be unable to have his inner dialogue with Sam's hovering, unasked questions. He would probably have to have a conversation later with Caleb too.

Sam took the seat vacated by Reaves. "So in your dream with Dad. . .what happened?"

Dean owed it to his brother to be honest and share their father. It didn't matter that everything occurred in a dream state. "He was trying to fix things." Dean had been looking at Sam, but saw the burden of guilt suddenly crash on his brother's shoulders, weighing his head forward. Dean focused on the white ceiling, and retreated to humor. "Real upset about Anna Nicole Smith though."

One side of Sam's mouth tried to attempt a grin, but failed. "What was he trying to fix?"

Dean decided to summarize. The details of the Winchester brothers' wrongdoings -physical and emotional - would only cause the fresh scabs to bleed. "Pissed off that we seem to attract trouble - like the apple doesn't fall that far from the tree." Dean snorted.

Sam was not rebuffed by the amusing observations. He had willfully chosen the hunter's life to make up for the previous pains he had caused his father, then became driven when he learned about his demon destiny. Sam hoped it had been the right commitment - the one to lead him to salvation. "Any solutions?"

Dean wished their father had told him of another weapon, but the dream had been solely for ulterior reasons. There was still a stalemate between the demon and the Winchesters. "Not really, just that we were going to tackle it together as a family." Dean moved his hand across the sheet, closer to his brother, but not enough to span the distance. "He knew I could save you."

Sam didn't notice his brother's hand, seeing only the battered and bruised soul before him. "Not tonight though."

Dean winced. Tomorrows were made for deliverance. He could feel Sam still staring at him. "What?"

"When you were lying here . . . It just reminded me. . ."

"Get some rest." Dean gave a cue for his brother to leave. They were not going to return to the beginning of Dean waking up in a hospital room back from the brink of death. They had come too far to dwell in the past.

Sam was satisfied. He didn't want to go back to the events of several months ago either. "You too." The youngest Winchester left the room, closing the door behind him.

He went down the stairs, looked in the kitchen for a moment for Caleb, and then found him outside on the porch. The older hunter was staring out into the distance. He acknowledged Sam's presence with a question.

"Kinda strange - Deuce convinced that your dad was alive." Reaves turned around and studied the younger hunter. "You want to talk about it?"

Sam stepped up next to the other man, enjoying the warm rays of sun dappling his skin. "What if he could come back?"

Caleb had the same thought. He already had formulated a conclusion. "He'd come back if he could."

"Yeah, Dean would like that," Sam commented. Dean's reaction had spoken his desires.

One of Reaves's eyebrows rose up. "And you?"

The younger hunter glanced down. Sam and his father seemed to have reached a détente at the end. He would have liked to have seen what would have happened next if his father hadn't sacrificed himself. "Me too. I think about him and if the demon. . ."

"It's the great John Winchester." Caleb grinned, and placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "He'll fight Sam. Johnny always knew how to fight."

"You think just maybe. . ." Sam cocked his head, surprised Caleb had some hope.

"Stranger things have happened. You know that, Runt." Caleb patted Sam's shoulder one more time. "Go take a nap. I'm going to talk to Mac."

Sam pursed his lips, pensive for a moment. A niggling thought forced its way forward and prompted him to speak. "What are you and Mac going to talk about?"

"Dean, probably." Caleb strived to tell the truth whenever possible. It was difficult to keep track of lies. But, Reaves sensed there was more the youngest Winchester was trying to ask. "Where are you going with this?"

Sam's eyebrows rose, his eyes widened, trying to will the older man to confirm Sam's belief. "Nothing you want to tell me?" Silence followed, so the young hunter became more direct. "Are you going to talk about The Triad to be?"

Caleb was startled. He should have expected Sam to put everything together. Dean knew his brother was going to be the next Scholar. It was not surprising Sam had figured it out for himself. At least this secret didn't have an evil destiny attached to it. "If I could tell you then I would."

Sam rubbed at his nose. "So you're saying you are bound by your position as the Knight?"

Caleb grinned. It sounded like he was being deposed for a trial. "Do I need a lawyer?"

"I don't think so." Sam shrugged his shoulders.

They were at an impasse, and Caleb could not go against his father's wishes on this matter. But, he could be clever. "Lawyers use hypotheticals –right?"

"Yes." Sam nodded, and pushed his hair off his face as it fell forward.

Caleb bit his lip, searching for the wording. "So hypothetically let's say there is this guy, and he figures out that he is supposed to be one of the leaders of a secret organization. . ."

"And his brother too," Sam interrupted. He gestured with his hand that Caleb should continue.

The older hunter was amused. He was being treated like a witness, he played along. "But this other guy really can't talk about it because of his boss."

Sam sighed. "Mackland's right." Sam glanced at the screen door. "I've known for awhile. All those old hunters' journals in Jim's library. . ." Sam gave Caleb a crooked grin. He had tried to ignore the conclusions he had formed, and did successfully for years as he followed his dream of normality. However, it was now like an anvil dropped in his path - noticeable and unavoidable. He was glad Mac had left them in the dark. "I can't handle this right now and neither can Dean."

Caleb shook his head. All those years of leaving Sammy to do the research and none of them ever figured he would deduce the signs. Hell, both Josh and Bobby knew. "Who said anything about Mac?" Reaves continued to feign ignorance. "Get some sleep."

"Yep, worry free, not thinking about anything, sleep." Sam yawned.

Caleb leaned against the railing, watching as Sam went back inside and up the stairs to one of the bedrooms. Sam knew he was the next Scholar, and knew Dean was the Guardian. Caleb felt relief; sometimes not telling something was as bad as lying. Sam would have time to adjust to his position, and come to accept it. He didn't know about Dean, but something had changed. He pushed off from the wood railing and entered the house, going to the den where his father was making a list of items he would need at the medical supplies store. "Dad?" Caleb announced himself to his father and took a seat on the small sofa in the room.

Mackland continued writing. "Yes?"

"I didn't want to say anything before. . ." Confessing a secret was never a good way to start a conversation, but it was an attention getter. Mac stopped writing, placing the pen on the desk and concentrating on his son. "When Dean was unconscious, I tried to reach him."

"Yes, I remember. You said you were unable to sense his presence, but you knew everything was fine."

Caleb found his experience difficult to explain. "I was able to sense something." The picture came to his mind. "An image of water."

"Water?" Mac was confused.

The conversation was about to become stranger. "Yeah." Reaves sighed. "It's the same image I would get when I would try to read Jim and he didn't want me to know something." Caleb bowed his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "Didn't happen often, but often enough that I noticed." He looked back at his father. "Is there a connection?"

Mackland shook his head. He had no idea. The Guardian was gone, and evidently there were many trade secrets- one of them being a connection between water and The Guardian. He had his own confession. "I have Jim's journals."

"How?"

"Remember when I asked you to bring that wood box to me after Jim was killed?" Ames recalled when Caleb had called him about the pastor's death. There had been a shockwave reaction. "His journals and important personal papers were in there."

Caleb vaguely remembered the box. At finding Jim dead, he had felt numb and was just looking for other people to make decisions. "Have you read them?" Reaves would have been tempted to read them, especially if the journals contained any information to help them.

"No, his wishes were that they be given to Dean." Mackland had been tempted to peek, but accepted there was a reason why he was not given permission to do so. He could divulge something of interest. "Dean also owns this house. Because he is a wanted felon I had to make some adjustments, but this is his."

"Damn." Caleb looked around the room. It was only fitting it all belonged to Dean, the one person who craved a home. "When are you going to tell him?"

"Soon, son, soon." Ames rubbed his face.

Reaves didn't want to tell his father that Sam already knew and more than likely Dean also knew his position too. This subterfuge was important to Mackland as the only way he could protect the Winchesters. Caleb as the next Knight, and The Scholar's son wanted to respect that decision and pretend Mac had some control. "And the image? What's the connection?" Caleb wanted to hear his father's hypotheses. It was Guardian related, but why water?

"It would just be conjecture. Evidently, the element connected to The Guardian is water. I don't know why." There was another puzzling problem, more pressing, which needed a solution only the Guardian knew. "There are quite a few things I wish Jim was here to answer. We don't even know where the silver for the rings comes from."

"So is Dean suddenly going to know about the silver?" Caleb rubbed his chin. "Spontaneous knowledge? That's not how it works for The Knight - or am I missing something?" He wondered if John was supposed to tell him something to make his job easier.

Mac recalled when the mantle had been passed down to him. Victor Stephens, the previous Scholar had just married a woman twenty years his junior and wanted to enjoy his retirement. There was a ceremony, some quick words and some reassurances that Victor would be available for a time before he moved to Hawaii, but not to call unless it was a dire emergency.

"No, as far as I know. And there is no special passing of knowledge for The Scholar, some keys and passwords but that's about it."

Caleb was in a little awe; and fear for Dean's future was intermingled too. "I always knew The Guardian was important, but I guess I didn't realize till now how powerful Jim was, and how he kept it well hidden."

"I used to like mysteries." Mackland rubbed the back of his neck and returned his attention to his list. He knew the future was difficult to foresee, but he wished someone would have prepared him for his position now.

"Wish you could skip ahead and read the end of the book to find out it was Colonel Mustard in the study with a candlestick." Reaves had chronicled his father's life, and knew the man used to love the idea of espionage and its elements of mystery and adventure. That had all changed.

Ames frowned at his son's metaphor. "Isn't that a game?" It sounded distinctly like Clue.

"Like life." Caleb placed his hands on his knees and then stood up. "Just gotta know how to play it."

He agreed with Caleb. He was no longer reacting to the threats to The Brotherhood, but being proactive. "I do, Son. Chess is my forte."

Reaves smiled. "It's nice to know we control the board." He was The Knight and there still was The Scholar, the future Scholar and Guardian - there was power there.

TBC

So everyone has been wondering if John was alive, and now you know that he is still dead. I never said in Part 5 he was in the farmhouse, I purposefully left that vague. Was it believable?


	7. Chapter 7

A Noble Obligation

By: Tidia

Disclaimer: See part 1

Notes: Thank you Mog for being an awesome beta. I love our beta conversations. Thank you Ridley for starting this universe. Thank you for all the kind notes-they are REALLY appreciated. I hope this part answers some more questions. A lot of people want to know when Dean was dream all this—it was when he was unconscious. Ridley and I have surprise—You can send me a private message of any question you have about The Brotherhood and we are going to post the answers on one of the stories (probably this one). Yes, we are copying Kripke.

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Part 7 

Dean watched as Sam left, waited until there was silence for about thirty minutes before he took the silver ring off, awkward because it was on a different finger than he usually wore it on. The light coming through the windows was enough to see by. The inscription winked. He had a sudden fear of J.R.R. Tolkein's literary One Ring, but pushed it aside as he read:

_Noblesse oblige._

Dean studied it for a moment before returning the ring to his finger. He didn't need a dictionary to know the meaning of the word. Noblesse oblige was tied to royalty or high birth. It meant stronger people needed to be honorable, generous and responsible for the weak. But, what did it mean as applied to him?

The ring hadn't been inscribed by Caleb, Mac or Sam. He'd been unconscious less than twenty-four hours. Dean twisted his ring. There was something special about Jim's pond. It was why he had been drawn to it, sought it out when he needed to get away and find some peace. She was always there, but this time she appeared to him instead of whispering to him. It wasn't lost on him that the Lady Du Lac had used a French name and noblesse oblige had roots in the French language. She wore the ring herself, two of them, but he didn't understand the meaning. Was she the source of the rings? And what had he been chosen to do? He wasn't about to allow anyone to exact another promise from him. However, it seemed that she was making promises to him.

There was another lingering thought. When he woke up he had lost his father—again. His father's rising had been a dream; therefore the Lady of the Lake had been a dream - or not. He rallied around the confirmation of her existence. Without it there was the distinct possibility he was insane or worse - hopeless.

If she was real, and the proof was in the inscription, then John Winchester had been real too. And maybe that trip into dreamland was about Dean and his father having just the moment of understanding. Still, he harbored hope for his father's return. In introspection he thought about having the chance to see his father again, and what he would do differently with their time together. There would be limited accusations and immediate forthrightness.

Dean sighed. He noticed his duffle bag had been brought in. He removed the IV, and tied a knot in the tubing. He slowly slid his body over to the edge of the bed, curled into a fetal position and rested a minute before sitting up. Using the bed to hold him up, he made his way to the bag, crouched in front of it. He dug through with his uninjured hand until he felt the Velcro pocket he had added to his duffle. Inside was a velvet pouch. Awkwardly, he spilled the contents of the pouch - Jim's ring. Caleb had given it to him after the pastor's death. The Guardian's ring was different, not a plain band but one with symbols etched on it. Dean tilted it so he could check inside the ring. The same words were inscribed: _Noblesse Oblige_.

Dean fell back into a sitting position. The impact jarred his wounded body. He brought the ring to his forehead. "Oh, God, Jim." He knew the ghost of the dead minister would not visit him. He returned the ring to its hiding place, and used the bed to hoist himself up.

He was tired, odd after having been unconscious for so long. But, his dream had been very active. Dean succumbed to sleep, if only to stop the thoughts running through his mind and the hope he could revisit what he touched upon when unconscious.

Three hours later he was up, placing one foot then the other gingerly on the wood floor. He stifled the groan caused by his protesting ribs. He craved a shower. He looked at his splint. A rinse would have to do, and then a cup of coffee. He shuffled into the bathroom and filled the sink with water. He found a washcloth and cleaned up, wetting the bandages around his ribs slightly. Ten minutes later he felt a bit cleaner and refreshed. He kept on the pajama pants he was wearing, wondering if they were Caleb's. He added his own hooded sweatshirt.

Carefully he went down the stairs, holding an arm against his ribs in the poor attempt to keep pressure off of them, standing upright placed a strain on his whole body. In the kitchen, there was a cup of coffee left waiting for him in the carafe. He poured it into his mug and set up the coffeemaker to make more.

Dean took his coffee out to the porch and settled in the old swing. He looked up and noticed the metal chains were rusting. He would have to change them while he was here, a swing shouldn't be allowed to get rusty. Dean figured everyone was asleep until he saw Mackland coming out, keys in hand.

"Hey, Mac," he stated so he did not startle the older hunter.

Ames frowned. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Dean would have shrugged his shoulders, but it would be painful. "Probably, but I have an in with the doctor. . ."

Mac sat down on the swing along side the younger man. "I was just heading out to buy some medical supplies. I'd like to cast that arm."

Dean lifted the splinted arm. "Just as long as Sammy or Caleb don't get to pick the color or write on it."

Mackland smiled. When the boys were younger they used casts as ploys for revenge. He doubted things would change even if they were older. "You can count on me."

Dean patted the older hunter's leg. Mackland had proven his commitment to the Winchesters. "I know I can."

Ames was hoping that he would not be shut out. "But you don't want to talk."

Dean knew there was so much he should speak about. He had a lifetime of thoughts - recent and old. But if he spoke of them, then the spell would unravel. He was keeping his own counsel on certain subjects. "Not really."

Mac was taking a guess, believing the younger hunter needed validation concerning John's unlikely resurrection. "Dean, your father loved you and was proud of you."

Dean embraced the peace he had made with his father. The momentary tranquility would be lost soon enough; the demon hovered over the Winchester's lives. "That's what he said."

Ames was a little surprised at Dean's calm behavior. "Good, you should believe it."

Dean decided to share a portion of his dream with a smirk. "You also drank—a lot." He waited for Mackland's reaction; the man was a notorious teetotaler.

The doctor shook his head vehemently. "Well, that you shouldn't believe." Mac stood up. "I'll see you when I get back."

"A date with some plaster. I'll look forward to it."

Dean watched Mackland drive away, and finished his coffee. He placed the cup on the porch's planked floor. He looked at the horizon and wondered if he would ever be able to forget everything and be 'just Dean' once more. The Dean without the craziness that he had witnessed from the point of his father's resurrection to the appearance of the Lady of the Lake. However, that Dean no longer existed. He was too affected by the dream. He didn't know how long he remained lulled by the glimmering sun, but the screen door opened again and Caleb stepped out.

"Mac left," Dean said.

Reaves studied the younger hunter, and his relaxed appearance. "How are you doing, Deuce?"

"Alright." Dean drawled, shifting positions slightly. He was getting too comfortable on the swing, but the gentle sway helped ease the pain of his injuries.

Caleb joined Dean on the swing, giving it a push which garnered him a glare from the injured hunter. "Still feels like the twilight zone?" Caleb picked at his palm, attempting to remove a splinter he'd carried with him from Knoxville.

"A little." Dean looked at Caleb's palm as the older hunter worked out the sliver. "Guess I still think Dad is going to show up." He thought conversation would invoke his father to appear in Jim's front yard like a desert mirage.

Caleb flicked the splinter away, then sucked the stinging cut. "What was Johnny like?"

Dean found Caleb so transparent sometimes. The older hunter was also looking for otherworldly guidance, having some doubt as to his true path. It made Reaves as normal as the rest of them. "We thought he was like Superman and could fix everything, but he was still an asshole."

Reaves deduced he was included in the 'We.' It was strange to have been a fixture in a dream, but Caleb smiled. "So, nothing changed."

"Pretty much." Dean nodded.

Caleb leaned forward; placing his elbows on his knees then turned his neck to look at Dean. "Good to know he hadn't become a saint or anything."

"Still, it was nice having him back." Dean relished the feeling of realization that John was alive.

"Yeah, I miss him too." Caleb conjured a picture of John in his mind.

Dean felt he could risk divulging his thoughts. There was no overriding instinct to keep them hidden. "I think if he had a second chance he'd be better than he had been."

"What's better than an asshole with a Superman complex?" It would have been a complete metamorphosis for John to lose the driven soldier within himself.

Dean paused and rubbed the calluses on his left hand. "A dad."

Caleb was stunned into silence for a moment. John probably would not have wanted anything more than to be just a father to his sons. His last act on this earth had proven that truth. "Probably would have lasted a day." Reaves smirked, using humor instead of pathos. He felt the need to tread carefully.

Dean understood, appreciated the gesture and went along with the funny remark. "Maybe two or three, tops."

"You're an optimist." Caleb sat back, seeing the depths of Dean's own transformation to another notch of maturity.

"Guess so." Dean closed his eyes for a second, then opened one eye. "Dude, in my dream you were all fanboy over him."

"Was not." Caleb argued. He hadn't lived the dream, but he knew his personality enough to know he always had a sense of decorum.

The younger hunter smirked. "Whatever, Damien. I was there."

"It was your dream." Reaves took the opportunity to probe deeper. He wanted some answers to his confusion. Did Dean know about the link between him, Jim and The Guardian position? "Anything else happen?"

"What? Like Jessica Beil paying me a visit or something?" Dean let the subterfuge spill off his lips. It seemed as though Caleb had an inkling of the truth. The Lady of the Lake was sacred for now.

"No, unless there were twins involved, I don't want to know." Reaves's mind filled with the image of water. He frowned. "It's just… never mind." There were secrets locked in the recesses of Dean's mind which Caleb would never be privy to again, and suddenly he missed the free access he once had.

"Okay," Dean steered the conversation back on course, to his brother. "Sam still sleeping?"

It was amazing how Dean could not be diverted from his primary mission in life. "Last time I checked." Sam was curled on his side, taking up Caleb's bed which relegated Reaves to the couch for a nap.

Dean leaned forward. "Think I freaked him out a bit with the whole Dad thing."

"You did." Caleb agreed. He also knew Dean's conversation afterward had set the younger Winchester at ease, giving him some buoyancy. "But he's good."

"He is, you know -- good." Dean said his daily affirmation out loud to encourage the belief. He had been drifting away from his center for awhile, but never away from Sam.

It was interesting to see the hopefulness in the young hunter. Caleb assumed his trip to dreamland with his father had helped the hunter's perception. "Your dad tell you that?"

"Didn't have to." Dean gave a half-assed grin. With a groan he attempted to stand up, succeeding in getting to his feet, bending at the waist until he felt his body had acclimated and then stood up fully.

"You okay there, Deuce?" Caleb said with a chuckle, and grabbed the younger man's elbow to provide assistance.

Dean hurt in so many ways, but his burden was lightened if only for a day. "For right now I am."


	8. Chapter 8

Title: A Noble Obligation

By: Tidia

Disclaimer: See part 1

Author's Note: Thank you for the great response. Thank you to Mog, my awesome beta. Thanks to Ridley for putting up with my insecurities about this fic. Happy Mother's Day!

Part 8

"Hey, we lose you there?"

Dean was watching the running faucet. The hunters were lingering around the kitchen table after dinner, though it had ended awhile ago. Sam was washing the dishes, a dishcloth on his shoulder. Dean's injuries allowed him a pardon from kitchen duty.

"Just tired." Dean blinked, breaking his concentration on the water. He gave a side glance to Caleb, and accompanied his glare with a warning. "Don't think I'm tired enough that I don't expect a sneak attack from you two. I want this cast to stay clean."

"What's the fun in that?" Sam grinned.

Caleb placed his hand over Dean's face to prevent him from saying anything further. "Dad, can't you give him something stronger?"

Mackland frowned, and gestured for his son remove his hand from the other hunter's visage. "I'd rather not, he was unconscious for awhile." The doctor gave Dean a nod. He hadn't forgotten his promise. "I expect you two to both leave that cast alone."

"Is that an order?" Caleb asked, wondering about the silent communication between his father and Dean.

Ames sniffed the brandy he had poured himself as an after dinner drink. He peered from over the snifter. "Yes, from The Scholar."

"Damn." Caleb rolled his eyes. He noticed Dean had fallen into quietness once more. He followed the younger hunter's gaze. "What are you looking at?"

Dean cocked his head to the side. "The water. It's funny. Stronger than rock, you know?"

Mackland turned to watch the water, he knitted his brows together.

Caleb shook his head. "Not really. Not a big fan," he replied casually. His parent's death at the beach house had forever marred the fluid element.

Dean wasn't really paying attention to the others. "Hmm. You know if something gets in its way, it just flows around, but after some time, water wears away any rock and makes a path through it."

Sam had shut off the faucet, and turned to stare at his brother. "Dean, you okay?"

Caleb placed a hand on Dean's forehead. "You relapsing or something?"

Dean swatted the offending hand away. He was divulging too much information even though he knew they would never make the connection to The Lady of the Lake. "Tough audience. I have a lot more respect for you Mac."

"Me?" Mackland did not understand the younger hunter's reasoning.

Dean smirked. "All those times you tried to share some lofty idea and all we wanted to do was watch The Simpsons."

"I tried to tell you that television would eat your mind." Ames crossed his arms. "Samuel, stop mimicking me."

Sam had been behind the doctor parroting him by mouthing Mac's television warning word for word. The youngest hunter's mouth dropped open, and he reddened. "I . . ." he stuttered.

"Busted!" Dean exclaimed, putting his hand slightly up in the air before an aching pain made him think twice about the action. "I thought the day would never come, bro." He cradled his arm to his torso.

"What?"

Caleb was also beaming in merriment. "As the baby of this family you could do no wrong. Nice to know you're so like the rest of us."

Sam took the towel and snapped it at Caleb, who laughed harder as did Dean.

"Okay, that's enough." Mackland put a stop to the rowdiness, noticing Dean was not laughing but instead gasping for breath. "He needs to go to bed."

Dean bent over and put his hand out for the other hunters to give him a minute to compose himself. He took in slow breaths, until finally he was able to take in air without feeling a painful hitch.

"You need help?" Sam crouched down in front of his brother and spoke to him loudly and slowly as if trying to communicate with a very elderly person.

Dean gave his brother a playful shove, needing the space in order to stand. "Nah." He was confident he could make it up the stairs, albeit slowly. "Goodnight," he said as he shuffled to the stairs, figuring that actually picking up his feet would require too much effort.

After five minutes Caleb called out. "You made it past the first step yet?"

Dean was actually on the third step, with quite a few left to climb. He was using the banister for leverage to propel forward. "Shut up, Damien." He was perfectly capable of making it to his room, then immediately taking some pain medication.

Not even a minute elapsed and Caleb called out again. "How about now?"

Dean didn't reply. He could hear Sam chuckling along. He would so get revenge on his brother at a later date.

"Now?" Reaves said again.

"Jackass," Dean hollered out, which only elicited more laughter.

It took another twenty-four hours, and an upgrade to prescription pain pills before Dean was able to go to the pond. He was determined. It was difficult to lay awake until the house became silent. His body wanted to rest. The bruising on his chest was a vivid purple black color and had peaked in intensity. Mac had recommended, through a thinly veiled order, the brothers needed to stay for at least three more days. Ames would be returning to New York soon and Caleb would be left to enforce his 'suggestion.'

Satisfied with the quietness in the home, Dean climbed out the window. As he scurried down the roof slowly, he thought it would have been easier for him to take the stairs and go out the back door. He was an adult. But Mac, Caleb and Sam would have stopped him if they had known, and rightly so, since his ribs were not welcoming the punishment.

He bent over, catching his breath and letting his body have a few minutes of repose before walking down to the lake. The boat was still there, he didn't use the oars. He allowed the water to carry him along. Trusted he would be safe. It was a still night so he wasn't far from the shore. Dean laid back, his body adjusting and finding comfort with the gentle lapping.

He waited. She would come.

The end

Another note: Ridley and I are taking Brotherhood questions if anyone would like to send them to me privately. And we should have the answers up next week, attached to this fic.


	9. Q & A about The Brotherhood

_**The Brotherhood Story So Far:**_

After Mary Winchester was killed John searched for answers, eventually bringing him to Missouri Mosley. Missouri, a psychic, provided what answers she could to John. But she believed it was more than a random act of evil. Winchester was steadfast in his desire to understand what had taken his wife and he persisted in questioning Missouri. He wanted to understand what was 'behind the curtain'.

Missouri introduced him to Pastor Jim Murphy and The Brotherhood, a secretive group of men and women brought together by the age old battle of good and evil. Its actual beginnings were shrouded in mystery, but most believe its roots lay as far back as the time of the Knights of the Round Table.

Jim Murphy saw a promise in John Winchester, a willingness to fight, a desire to protect the innocent. Although fueled by revenge for his wife's death, John's potential was undeniable. The pastor recognized an opportunity-a moment of chance he could not let slip through his fingers.

Around the same time Mary Winchester was murdered, Missouri had a vision of a young man-another powerful psychic. Caleb Reaves was thirteen and found himself facing murder charges for the horrific deaths of his foster parents. Police found the presence of sulfur a fact they discounted, but one that was of interest to Bobby Singer and Daniel Elkins. The boy was placed in a psychiatric institution where Jim Murphy sent Dr. Mackland Ames to interview him.

Mackland Ames had only been involved in The Brotherhood for a short time, acquiring telekinetic abilities of his own after a car accident that left him in a coma for several months. The wealthy neurosurgeon became acquainted with Missouri after helping the FBI with a missing person's case in Kansas. Missouri had also been brought in by the victim's parents and the woman soon discovered an ally in Mackland. She in turn introduced him to Jim Murphy and The Brotherhood. Mackland followed Jim's wishes, his interest in Caleb purely scientific. But the pastor had a soft spot for the boy, convincing Mackland he was a danger not only to himself, but to others, if he continued on untrained. The doctor became quickly ensnared by the traumatized teen, adopting him as his own son in later months.

Daniel Elkins believed Caleb to be a risk. Elkins had researched Caleb's family, traced his lineage back to a great grandfather, Noah Seaver. Seaver was a preacher in the late 1800's who became consumed with the idea of immortality. He led his congregation, which historians would later relate to a cult into the art of necromancy. Seaver had enough information to be dangerous, using an antiquity of great power to summon a fierce fire demon. Members of The Brotherhood of that time believed the demon possessed Seaver to walk among the humans. The possessed man had a son with Seaver's wife, Thomas Seaver. Half-demon, half human.

Later, piecing together reports from the journals of past hunters, Elkins believed Thomas Seaver and his mother, Lily, were the only two people to survive a horrible fire at Noah's church, reportedly started by the preacher himself. Twenty-two men, women and children, including Noah, were burned to death. But a credible witness swore he had seen Seaver's wife leaving town the next day, her young son in tow.

A Cecily Reaves came to the attention of The Brotherhood in later years when she and her daughter-in-law were found with their throats slit. Thomas Reaves was never heard from again and his young son, Isaac, was placed in an orphanage.

Years later, Isaac murdered his wife, Amelia and killed himself. They were survived only by their six-year-old son, Caleb.

Jim feared for the boy's safety, knowing that hunters had a low tolerance for anything or anyone even remotely related to the dark-side of their world. He felt no hint of anything evil in the boy, but instead sensed a hurt and thirst for justice he had seen in John Winchester. It seemed fitting that he bring the two together to let John mentor the boy. And if it were true that both of them were linked to the monster that tore their lives apart, their bond might be the very thing to defeat the beast. Or at least the bond between Caleb and John's young sons could.

The timely meetings were too connected to be of mere chance. Jim sent Mackland Ames to coach John Winchester in the ways of The Brotherhood and despite their diverse backgrounds the men found common footing in their dedication to the fight. So much so that Jim as The Guardian chose Mackland to be The Scholar and John to be the Knight.

This Triad made up of a preacher, a doctor, and a soldier was uncommon as usually The Triad grows up together and bonds over time. Jim vowed never to allow The Brotherhood to find itself in the same position again. He began to prepare the next generation's Triad—Sam as The Scholar, Caleb as The Knight and Dean as The Guardian-in one possible scenario.

The boys were shielded from their positions for the most part.

Caleb knows he is the next Knight. Sam figured out he is the next Scholar by reading the hunters' journals found in Jim's library (nicknamed The Hunter's Tomb) . Dean has also realized he is the next Guardian. Both Winchesters are purposefully remaining oblivious.

They have not been officially told by Mackland, who after the death of Jim and John still remains in power. That Triad will dissolve upon either his death or retirement. It will be up to him to decide when the next Triad should come to power. There is another faction within The Brotherhood which does not want the next generation to come to power. This faction is led by Griffin. He has set plans into motion to achieve those goals.

_Questions from Windstar:_

1. Are we ever going to find out what happened to Caleb with Duran?

**Answer**: Never say never, but at this point what you need to know is that Caleb can read minds and at 14 he was very uncomfortable with Duran's lecherous thoughts. That is how far it went—nothing more. As a boy, and new to The Brotherhood he didn't feel he had any power to talk to the other hunters about someone in their ranks. There was an incident where Duran left Caleb behind on a hunt. He was rescued by Bobby. This was mentioned in The Line also.

2. Why are Ian and Silas still hanging around after they helped kidnap and torture Sam, Dean, and Caleb?

**Answer:** Ian and Silas were never seen in the kidnapping story. They were never suspects as Silas worked with John and Bobby quite often over the years. Ian and Silas were only seen with Griffin in the story The Best and Worst of Times/Charge Their Doings. They cover their tracks well, and it is quite possible they may have been involved with Griffin even then. They have come in Who Your Friends Are to deliver a message.

3. If Dean's coming into knowledge about him being the guardian, is there going to be a moment where they all sit down and officilize it?

**Answer**: Yes, Dean knows he is the next Guardian, but it won't be official until Mackland Ames tells them (Sam and Dean) and at this point they rather play ignorant. Yes, Mackland will tell them.

4. Is John really back?

**Answer**: No, not at this point, but you never know. . .because it has been left open ended. If the Lady of the Lake is real then John could have been real too. . .

5. If there is no season 3 will the brotherhood continue?

**Answer:** Yes! We actually know how we want it all to end too.

**Ridley**: Many years in the future.

Tidia: With a happy ending.

_Questions from SomeoneElsesDream_

6. What is the deal with Esme...what's her story and her relationship to Mac?

**Answer**: Hmmm, let's say that there is something between them and we hope to get a chance to show that in a future fic that will just torture Joshua and Caleb.

7. What is the deal with Griffin? When did he try to take over and what is he up to now?

**Answer**: Griffin is crafty, and more about him will be revealed. He is setting his coup in motion now.

_Question from Mishka89_

8. In Ridley's story The Line there is were a few underlying, and some not so underlying things that I picked up between Caleb and Duran. I was wondering if there was something slightly sexual that happened between Caleb and Duran because of the way Caleb reacts when Duran does/says things to Dean?

**Answer:** Remember that Caleb is a mind reader and Duran is a man will low morals. He might allow Duran to have lecherous thoughts about him, but there would be no way he would tolerate the man's sick ideas when it come to Dean or Sam.

9. There was another bit about his and Caleb's relationship, I'm not recalling which story but I think Caleb was having a nightmare and said Duran's name?

**Answer**: In The Best and Worst of Times Caleb is having a nightmare.

**Ridley:** I don't know if this will ever come into play again. But just to reiterate, Duran is a bad, bad man.

**Tidia**: We have to remember to use Duran again.

_Questions from Gretchless_

10. i have a question in ridleys sneak preview it says something about griffin putting the boys in danger, i wanted to know if we have actually heard anything that related to that so far ??

**Answer**: There has been mention that as children the boys were kidnapped.

_Question from meilinglovesshaoran_

11. I just have a quick question about the Brotherhood AU stories. In the Christmas special 'The Best and Worst of Times', Griffin notes about Sam that "With the right guidance, he would make a strong Scholar". But the more recent stories such as "Who your friends are" and "pin and the fork" and synergy" imply that factions within the Brotherhood are moving against Sam, Dean and Caleb heading up the New Triad. I was wondering if you could clear up this inconsistency.

**Answer**: Griffin is stating the idea that Sam is powerful and if he had been under his tutelage then perhaps he would have supported him as the next Scholar.

**Ridley:** Griffin still holds an inkling of hope that Sam could be turned to see things his way. He sees him as a kindred spirit of sorts-and likes a challenge.

_Questions from BM originally_

12. I'm completely lost! Is there a timeline somewhere that could explain what is going on and what has been revealed so far? I'm not sure I'm finding all the stories that have been posted and the ones that are tied together and I don't know what order they go in, so while I'm really interested in this AU I can't figure out what's going on!

**Answer:** Here are the stories listed by age. Many of you have requested them this way, although we're not sure how that will work. If it is still confusing, we suggest reading them in the order they were written.

The Real Deal

Growing Pains

Sam's Special Day

The Password

Toy Soldiers

What Caleb's Do

What My Mom Gave to Me

In The Company of Dragons

On The Wings of a Phoenix

Dream On

Great, Beautiful, Terrible Things

Black Bras and Strappy High-heeled shoes

The Winding Bar

The Whispering of Angels

All Sewn Up

The Line

Healing

The Machiavellian Prince

Valuables

Not Ready to Make Nice

WWJD

The Way Home

The Long Way Around

Talk is Cheap

The Enemy of my Enemy

Martyrs and Saints

….And Innocents

The Best and Worst of Times/Charge Their Doings

Spirited Beings

Hold Fast

Synergy

The Pin and the Fork

Debts, Deuces and Dumb Moves

And the Gates Swung Open

Special Note: Heroes is currently being rewritten and will fill in a lot of gaps. It will be the official first story of The Brotherhood Series when it is finished. Also we would love some feedback if ages are the way to read the story.

_Questions from Silver Kitsune1_

13. How in the world did John become the knight? When did he first make contact with the Brotherhood? Did Missouri send him over or what?

**Answer**: Missouri led John to The Brotherhood. Jim picked John as the next Knight. It was Elkins until he went a bit crazy. That generation (Jim, John and Mackland) are an unusual Triad because usually The Triad grows up together, but it will be explained in Interwoven, an upcoming fic why this Triad is different.

14. I've wondered for a while if the Brotherhood has any female hunters in it. I know Ridley mentioned a woman named Manuela in Phoenix, but I wasn't sure if she was a hunter or more spy sort of function, and I know Missouri is considered a high ranking member, but out of curiosity I'm just wondering if there are woman running around hunting things and wearing rings.

**Answer:** Yes, there are woman hunters. We have mentioned some behind the scene women, and they are all trained. At some point we may add more of a hunter type.

**Ridley:** In no form or fashion will The Brotherhood ever condone the use of women as a Mary Sue. It's fun to play with characters like Dr. McCoy, Esme, and we have toyed with the idea of a woman trucker, who has a cute history with Bobby and Carolyn research assistant who has a total crush on Joshua. If there are women hunters they will not be named after states or be better at the boys in everything and there will be no "NO" overt romantic relationships. They will be smart, capable and completely minor characters which add to the richness of the story. It's all about the boys.

**Tidia**: Carolyn and Emily (although she may undergo a name change) were mentioned in Spirited Beings. I'm jus' sayin' that I'm a bit of a romantic….I was lucky to let Rachel have a few months with Caleb.

_Questions from Marvin is my muse_

15. What's the importance of water? Will Sam, Caleb or Mac ever find out about her or will it be the Gaudian's secret? When will Dean find out he owns Jim's place? What's going on with the hunters trying to take over the brotherhood (damn them!)?

**Answer:** Water is important and more clues will be given about it. Sam, Caleb and Mac will never know The Guardian's secret. Dean is a wanted man right now, perhaps when he can settle down it will then be revealed that he owns Jim's place. The other hunters are trying to take over because they do not support the next Triad.

_Questions from -Tathariel_

16. How did Mac and John earn their positions as Scholar and Knight in the Brotherhood? How did they earn their rings, for that matter?

**Answer:** Jim as The Guardian chose them. They joined The Brotherhood late, finding the secret group through Missouri, and they were bestowed the rings in an accelerated manner, not for any act like Caleb, Sam, Dean and some of the other hunters.

_Question from Savage Shade_

17. how long has the Brotherhood been around, how did it start and who founded it, I take they were the original Triad?

**Answer:** Supposedly The Brotherhood dates back to the time of the round table. It has always been around in one form or another, and some times it is needed more than other times.

_Questions from PinkPhoenix1985_

18. I have a question- when was it decided that Dean, Caleb and Sam would take over as the new generation of the triad?

**Answer**: Jim put that all in motion with the support of Mackland and John. The question should be was John doing it for selfish reasons. Caleb was old enough to know what he was getting into, but Dean and Sam were babies.

_Questions from River City1_

19. Is there a story that tells us about Caleb's childhood and being found and adopted by Mac? Naturally, I am picking up bits and pieces of the story, but I would love to read the full tale, if it has been written at this point.

**Answer:** Williamson Scott is writing a fic called Stranded, but there is also a summary above that should help you.

Is there a story that deals specifically with Pastor Jim's death?

**Answer:** It was mentioned in A Noble Obligation. There is not a specific story at this time.

_Questions from HAP_

I had a question that isn't really related to the stories - I just wondered whether you guys could elaborate on who the actual actors/models/whatever are on the Hunters Tomb site for the Brotherhood characters. I mean, Morgan Freeman is obvious, but I don't know which show/whatever the images of 'Caleb' and 'Josh' come from.

**Answer**: We have Victor Webster playing Caleb. We saw him in Must Love Dogs, and then after finding his name we learned he was in Charmed and Mutant X. It also started the "hotness" factor in The Brotherhood. Josh is Gabriel Aubry. He is a male model, best known for Hugo Boss ads and as Halle Berry's boyfriend. Halle is a lucky girl.

_Questions from CalebisHot_

22. In Who Your Friends Are, Ian is talking about Caleb's grandfather summoning the demon that killed Mary. Is that going to be explained in further stories?

**Answer**: Yes, it will be explained further, and it is also in the summary.

Also, in On the Wings of a Phoenix, Jim and John are talking and they mention that there were two candidates for the knight and that Jim chose Caleb over the other person. Who was the other person?

**Answer:** Do you really want to be spoiled? It will be in To the Victor Goes the Spoils coming late this summer.

_Questions from sauguge_

23. I don't really understand why his (Caleb) father killed his mother. You alluded that they were in an argument, and I was wondering about the details. Wondering if you two are gonna get into the details of that in a different story or something.

**Answer: **The reason why Isaac killed his wife, Amelia, is part of the mystery. The idea has been he was probably possessed. Caleb saw it, but since he was a child locked the memory away.

24. I didn't really get his heritage. so, he's half demon right? but, how did that happen? was his grandpa a demon, or his father, or what?

**Answer: **The half-demon came from Heroes, and that story is being re-edited. Caleb is not half-demon. And the summary has this filled in a little more.

_Question from Crogos:_

25. I was just wondering, in your story "Valuables" you mention that Caleb came to visit Sam at Stamford, could you tell me in which one of your fics that event actually occurs? I've been searching all over the place, and I just can't seem to find it.

**Answer**: This hasn't been written yet.

**Tidia:** This is the infamous New Mexico fic. I am on Ridley for this because I really want it written.


End file.
